


Domino Motion

by lakesandquarries



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baby Blasters, Child Abuse, Dad Grillby, Gen, Medical Experimentation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, alphys is finally here, also they're basically skeleton cats, baby blaster au, papyrus is 5, sans is 10 in this, triggers will be added as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-05 15:16:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 39,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5379959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakesandquarries/pseuds/lakesandquarries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Grillby finds his garbage looted, he decides to investigate and ends up finding two very unusual children. His life quickly becomes more hectic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. im not always like this

**Author's Note:**

> AU Concept by http://spacegate.tumblr.com/, with a couple differences. (Sans and Papyrus are 10 and 5, and the blaster forms are basically cats.)   
> Updates Monday, Wednesday, and Friday plus bonus updates on either Saturday or Sunday.  
> Crossposted on tumblr at http://lakesandquarries.tumblr.com/. Title from "Glittering Cloud" by Imogen Heap.

It starts with ripped up trash bags.

Grillby heads into work one morning to find the dumpster behind his restaurant in bad shape. For one thing, it's been knocked over, all the trash inside spilling out into the snow. There's claw marks, deep ones, and large dent on the side. The bags inside are in similarly bad states, ripped open and demolished. There's what looks like teeth marks on quite a bit of the garbage that's now blowing around Snowdin.

Grillby sighs before starting to pick everything up. He can't get the dumpster righted on his own, but he figures he can ask some of the Royal Guards for help. For now, he focuses on cleaning the area. Hopefully nothing's already blown away, but knowing Snowdin, it's likely there will be garbage floating around town for the next few weeks.

He asks his regulars if they've seen anything odd, anything that could knock a dumpster over and claw it up like that, but no one's seen anything. He does his best to forget about it, and for a few days, it seems that it was just a one time thing.

Except that it happens again. He finds the dumpster on its side four days later, and then again two days after that.

His regulars have started noticing things, too. Doggo says he thought he saw a puppy the other night, but it wasn't moving enough for him to tell. Dogamy says he thought he smelled a cat the other night. There's a fierce debate between the two that's settled when Greater Dog sits in between them and starts eating their food, causing the two to turn their bickering towards him. Grillby stops paying attention. There’s scratch marks on his door that night.

Enough is enough, he decides. The next day, he finds the dumpster upturned yet again, but this time, he leaves. When he closes up, he doesn't go home. Instead he places a plate of food on top of the dumpster and waits.

He keeps the lights off, using his own flame to illuminate the small amount of space he needs. In between staring through the back window at the dumpster, he tries to read. He's beginning to consider giving up and going home when he hears rustling.

Theres two tiny monsters, somewhere between dog and cat in appearance, except that they're nothing but bones. The larger has the smaller tied to its back with what appears to be a scarf. Grillby watches as it circles the dumpster, pacing back and forth as it considers. After a long moment of consideration, it jumps up on top of the dumpster, then nudges the small, who begins to wiggle free of the sling. Grillby lets them eat for a moment, watching. They both have clothing, but it's thin and ragged, useless against the cold. He opens the door as quietly as he can, trying to keep his flame low, and the larger, attention held wholly by the food, only notices Grillby when it hears the door click shut.

The larger considers him, back arched, eyes large and white. It lets out a low growl.

"I mean you no harm," Grillby whispers. "I only wanted to know what it was that was knocking over my trash. Would you like more food?"

The smaller, seeming less afraid than the larger, makes its way closer to him. 

"Is that a yes?"

The smaller emits a soft click and seems to nod its head. Grillby moves to open the door and the larger dashes for the smaller, picking it up by the scruff of its neck, before darting into the dumpster.

Grillby pays this no mind. He goes back inside and grabs two burgers he'd set aside just for this, letting them cook in the palms of his hands before placing them on a plate. He also grabs a small bowl and fills it with milk. It seems like the right thing to offer. Milk is good for bones, after all, isn't it?

Grillby sets the food on the ground, away from the door, but easily seen from the dumpster. He kneels down, staying within sight, but not too close.

Tentatively, the larger one comes out of the dumpster, keeping an eye on him the whole time. The smaller goes straight for the milk and laps it up happily.

And then something incredible happens.

The smaller one gets up, stretches, and then starts to change. Paws turn to hands, the ridges on the skull recede, the face restructures to resemble a more humanoid creature. It all happens in a few seconds. 

The child can't be more than four or five. Their eyes seem to remain unchanged between forms, still wide and hopeful. They smile nervously, revealing a missing front tooth. The rest of their teeth are sharp.

"Thank you," they say, mumbling the words together, so it comes out sounding more like _san-kyoo_ , but Grillby gets the message.

"You're very welcome, little one," he says, then asks, "Do you have a name?"

"I am the Great Papyrus!" the child states, placing a hand on their chest dramatically. "And this is my brother, S-" A sharp whine interrupts him.

The other glares at Papyrus before transforming as well. He's taller than Papyrus, but where Papyrus simply seems a bit thin, this one is gaunt. His eyes are large and dark, with heavy bags under them. "Bro," he says, whining just a bit. "We don't know if this guy's safe."

"But he gave us food!" Papyrus says. "And he promised!"

He snorts. "Just cause he promised doesn't mean he means it," he informs Papyrus. "Just...let me handle this." With that he turns to Grillby. "Who are you?" he demands. At full height, the child is barely eye level with Grillby kneeling down. "Wh...What do you want from us?"

"My name is Grillby. I own this restaurant. I only wanted to know who was knocking over my dumpster. I want nothing from you. I would appreciate if you told me your name, though."

"My...my name's Sans." He sticks out his hand, pulling his head into his shoulders a bit and looking away. Grillby shakes his hand carefully.

"Sans, Papyrus...would you like to come in? It's very cold out here, and neither of you are dressed for this kind of weather."

Papyrus looks like he wants to say yes, but Sans shakes his head. "We're fine," he insists. "Skeletons don't get cold."

There's a gust of cold wind. Sans shivers.

"I have more food, inside," Grillby says. "And milk. Better clothing." Sans hesitates. "I will not force you to come in. But if you want to, my door is open. You can leave whenever you want."

Papyrus looks to Sans, eyes wide, lower lip quivering. Sans huffs. "Fine," he mutters. Papyrus hugs his brother before excitedly running over to Grillby.

"Thank you Gribbles," he says, and something in Grillby's chest constricts.

"Grillby," he corrects, standing up slowly. "My name is Grillby, not..."

"Gribbles," Papyrus says again. There are worse things to be called, Grillby tells himself. He unlocks the door. Papyrus dashes in without hesitating, but Sans lingers in the doorway.

"You _promise_ you're not gonna hurt us?" he asks. 

"I promise."

"If you're lying, I'll - I'll -" he looks down. His voice goes hard. "If you hurt my brother," he says, slow and deliberate, "I'll hurt you."

"I understand. Now, would you like to come in, or stay out here?"

Sans looks back up. "You...you're still gonna let me come in?"

Grillby doesn't reply, just holds the door open. Sans stares at him a moment longer before finally going inside.

Papyrus is up on the counter, exploring. “More food?” he asks.

"I can get you more food," Grillby says, smiling. "What would you like?"

"I liked the stuff in the bowl," he says. 

"Milk?" Papyrus nods. 

"Alright, I'll get you more milk. Sans?"

"There was thing I found in - in the trash once," he admits. "It was like the think you left outside but there was this red stuff on it."

"Ketchup?"

"Is that what it's called?"

"Well, the food I gave you earlier was a burger. Burgers are often served with ketchup."

"Could...could I have one?"

"Of course you may. Do you want to sit down? It will take me a moment to make."

He sits. Grillby sets out a cup of milk for Papyrus, then gets to work making a burger. Sans watches him. When he's done, Sans inspects it carefully before taking a bit. He's finished it off within a few seconds.

"Thank you!" Papyrus says, nudging his brother.

"Thanks," Sans repeats.

"I need to go lock up," Grillby states. "I will be back shortly."

Grillby stands outside and waits.

"C'mon, Pap," he hears Sans say. "We can't stay here. It's not safe."

"Can we come back?"

"....Sure." 

"Okay," Papyrus says happily. Grillby hears a door being opened, then closing. He heads back inside.

What has he gotten himself into?


	2. its something ive become

Grillby doesn't see the two for a while after that. He leaves out food every night, but for a full week, there's no sign of them. It storms one night, not too big, but enough that two children shouldn't be out in it alone. Grillby doesn't sleep that night.

Time passes. He still leaves food out each night, but the next time a storm comes, he doesn't wait up. He made an effort, helped them for at least one night, and if that's all they'll let him do, so be it. He leaves a plate of food outside, just in case.

Two days later, as he's getting ready to open, he hears a crash out back. There's a thud, followed by what sounds like loud whimpering. _It's probably just one of the dogs,_ he tells himself. Sans and Papyrus have probably left. 

More thudding. He sighs and opens the door, only for Papyrus to headbutt his shin.

"Papyrus?" Grillby says uncertainly. Papyrus makes a series of noises. "Papyrus, I can't understand you." It takes Papyrus longer to transform then it did the last time Grillby saw him, but soon enough he's up on two feet.

"Sans's sick," he says. "An' he won't talk to me, or eat anything, and - he told me not to talk to anyone but he won't wake up and I didn't know what to do," he says, words spilling out in a panicked rush. "Sans says I shouldn't trust people," Papyrus continues, "but you gave us food, and I think something's really wrong with him, and - and - and I'm scared," he admits.

"It's alright, Papyrus. Where is he?"

"He's under the big bin," Papyrus says. "I tried to get inside, cause I thought it'd be warmer, but I couldn't knock it over like he can."

Slowly, carefully, Grillby moves the dumpster. Sans is curled up underneath, the sporadic twitching of his tail the only sign he's still alive. "Can you help him?" Papyrus asks.

"I can try," Grillby says. He takes a step closer to Sans, then another when Sans doesn't move. He shakes the child's shoulder gently. No response. "Sans?" When even that gets no reaction, he finally picks Sans up and takes him inside. Papyrus follows.

Grillby sets Sans down on his couch, then tries to think what he should do first. He's never had to care for a sick child before, much less a shapeshifter.

"Papyrus, I apologize if this comes across as rude, but....What exactly are you and Sans?"

Papyrus shrugs.

"You...don't know?"

"No," Papyrus admits. "Well...We're skeletons! But, uh, I don't think we're normal skeletons." He looks up at Grillby, eyes wide, and Grillby is surprised by the sudden protectiveness he feels.

"Well, I'm sure traditional methods of treating sickness should still work," Grillby says. "First we should get you both some food." He ends up making soup, and Papyrus insists on helping. He's a surprisingly good helper, even if he's not sure what half the ingredients Grillby asks him to get are. He even helps Grillby try to feed Sans some of the broth.

Sans thrashes in his sleep, nearly falling off the couch. Grillby nudges him back, and realises that Sans's clothing is damp, heavy with sweat and snow.

"Papyrus," he says quietly, "Would you come help me find you and your brother better clothing? His seems very...soggy." Papyrus nods and follows Grillby to his room. They dig up some some old shirts and pants that should hopefully fit Sans decently. Papyrus runs off the bathroom to change while Grillby deals with Sans.

He's able to get his hoodie off without much fuss, but when Grillby attempts to remove his shirt, Sans lets out a sleepy growl and tries to claw at him. Papyrus ends up having to help him, but finally Grillby is able to pull the clean shirt over Sans' head. The sleeves are far too long, and Grillby is rolling them up when he sees something odd.

There's text on his inner wrist. "WDG01S," it reads, in stark black letters. Gently, Grillby runs his fingers over it. The text has been engraved into the child's arm. For a moment, he wonders if Papyrus has a similar marking, then tells himself it doesn't matter. He focuses on getting Sans into warm clothing, then on finding him some blankets. Once Sans is set up, he turns his attention back to Papyrus.

"Is Sans going to be okay?" Papyrus asks. 

"He should be fine," Grillby tells him. "Do you know how he got sick?"

"There was the storm," Papyrus says. "And we got stuck in it. And I got a little sick, so he made me take all the warm clothing, but then there was the second storm, and he got all sniffly, but he wouldn't wear the hoodie or scarf. And then he fell asleep and he wouldn't wake up so I dragged him over here. He's gonna be so mad when he wakes up," Papyrus says, looking worried. "He always tells me I shouldn't trust people. But I didn't know what else to do. It was really scary."

"You did the right thing," Grillby says. "Bringing him here was very brave of you." Papyrus beams at him, then yawns. 

"I didn't get much sleep last night," Papyrus admits.

"Why don't you go lie down with your brother?" Papyrus nods happily and heads into the bedroom.

The two sleep for most of the day. He checks on them periodically, in between serving customers. Papyrus wakes up around noon, and Grillby tells him he can come and help cook if he'd like. Papyrus looks ecstatic. He's very enthusiastic, asking a constant stream of questions. 

"What's this?"

"That's spaghetti," Grillby explains.

"Do you eat it?" 

"Yes, but-" Papyrus does not wait for Grillby to finish. He takes a handful of uncooked noodles and eats them raw. Grillby can't help the laugh that bursts forth.

"Papyrus," he says, still chuckling, "They're meant to be cooked first."

"Oooh."

"If you would like, I could teach you how to cook them sometime."

"Really?" Papyrus asks, eyes wide. He hugs Grillby. "Thank you Gribbles."

"My name is Grillby."

"Gribbles is more fun to say," Papyrus says, surprising another laugh out of Grillby.

Sans sleeps through the entire day. Grillby doesn't disturb him, sleeping on the couch instead. 

When he wakes up, Sans is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c


	3. a terrible weakness

Sans wakes up.

His first response is panic. The last thing he remembers clearly is being outside, in the snow, with Papyrus. He sits up slowly, growing more and more nervous by the second. His clothing is gone, replaced by a thick, soft shirt and pants. He's in a bed, piled with blankets. Papyrus is nowhere to be seen.

He struggles to get up. His head feels stuffy, like his skulls been filled with cotton balls. When he tries to shift, a wave of dizziness and nausea hits him, and he ends up collapsing in a heap on the floor. It’s several minutes before he can stand again.

The last time he felt this way...He shakes his head, trying to chase the thought away, and only manages to make himself dizzy again. Slowly, carefully, he manages to stand, balancing on all four limbs, then makes his way out of the room. He stays silent, wanting to call for Papyrus but afraid something else might hear him. He finds the living room and panics.

He's in someone's house. Not just anyone, but the man who'd helped them earlier. Grillby, he thinks his name was. He's asleep on the couch, Papyrus nowhere in sight.

Sans doesn't think. For a moment, he doesn't even breathe. He hunts for the door frantically and manages to get it open after some desperate clawing, only to find that he's still trapped. He's inside the restaurant. Attempting to open the doors reveals that they're locked.

Well, he can fix that. He runs at the back door, slamming into it. It cracks when it breaks, and he stumbles outside. "Papyrus?" he shouts, even though it's barely understandable in this form. Papyrus will know what he's saying. "Papyrus, where are you?"

Sans shivers. His vision goes blurry for a second. "Papyrus..." His whole body feels heavy, tired. Mixed with the headache and dizziness and loss of memory, it makes for an all-too-familiar feeling. He keeps shouting, calling Papyrus’s name over and over, even as he feels his legs give out from under him.

Faintly, distantly, he hears footsteps, feels someone pick him up. Sans tries to put up a fight, but he's too weak. He whines, frustrated by how pitiful it sounds. Then everything fades as he passes out.

_"Hold still and keep your eyes closed," Gaster says. Sans doesn't want to hold still, or keep his eyes shut, but he knows better than to disobey. Last time he did that, Papyrus got hurt. There's a sting, then nothing._

_"How do you feel?"_

_"The same?"_

_"Hm." Another sharp sting. "Anything?"_

_"Nothing," Sans tries to say, but suddenly his body feels like it's burning. He hears screaming, and it takes him a moment to realise it's him. He tries to stop himself, but his soul is being torn apart and it's all he can do to keep breathing. Gaster says nothing._

_Slowly, the pain fades. Sans gulps in air. His body feels heavy and tired, and his head is pounding._

_"Open your eyes, Sans," Gaster says._

Sans wakes up. 

He's in the room again, the one he woke up in last time. He blinks, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes, then sits up. He's in the same clothing from the last time he woke up. There's a note on the table next to him. He doesn't bother trying to read it.

Sans stands up, then stretches and shifts. He looks back at the bed, trying to piece together his memories.

He'd gotten sick. There was a second storm. Then there's a blank spot. He'd woken up at one point, but the memory is vague and fuzzy. He'd gone outside, he remembers, but he can't recall why.

_Papyrus._ He'd gone outside to look for Papyrus.

He hears a distant whine, followed by a growl, and he's running towards the source of the sound before he even registers what's happened. He was the worst brother imaginable, he'd let them get caught again, who knew what was happening to Papyrus now, this was all his fault -

Papyrus is sitting in the living room, poised to pounce on a toy. His tail twitches. 

"Papyrus?" he says quietly. Papyrus looks up, toy forgotten in an instant. He's shifted and is hugging Sans before Sans can even register what's happening. 

"Sans!" Papyrus yells happily, "You're finally awake! Just in time, too, we're about to eat! I know how much you like to eat," Papyrus says, pulling his brother towards the kitchen.

"Whoa, Pap, slow down. Where - where are we? What's going on? How long have I been asleep?"

"Grillby, Sans is awake!" Papyrus says, paying no attention to what Sans is saying as he drags his brother into the kitchen. 

"I can see that," Grillby says, "Papyrus, could you let me talk to your brother for a moment?"

Papyrus pouts, but goes back into the living room.

"What’s going on?" Sans asks. "How long have I been asleep? Who are you? What-" his voice cracks a bit. "What do you want with us?"

"You got sick," Grillby says. "Papyrus didn't know what to do, so he brought you here, hoping I would be able to help. You've been asleep for three days, not counting the time before you woke up and ran away. I've introduced myself to you before, but I am Grillby. If you will allow it, I want to help you."

"What did you do with my clothing?"

"When Papyrus brought you here, your clothing was very damp. I got you some dry clothing to help you get better faster. Your shorts and shirt had to be thrown away, but I was able to clean and repair your hoodie."

Sans looks at his wrist self-consciously. "Why should I trust you?"

"Sans, if you do not trust me, I understand," Grillby says. "However, I promise that I have no intention of harming you or your brother."

Sans is silent for a moment. "...Thanks," he says eventually. 

"Thank your brother," Grillby says. "Bringing you here was his idea."

"My bro's pretty great," Sans says, smiling just a bit. "He uh...he said something about food?"

"Yes, I'm almost done making dinner. I take it you would like some?"

Sans nods hesitantly. "If...that's okay..."

"It's no trouble," Grillby says. "I'll come get you both when it's ready."

Sans nods, then returns to the living room. Papyrus is lying on the floor, working on a puzzle. Sans sits down next to him. "Grillby says I got sick," he says.

"You were being kinda scary," Papyrus admits. "I couldn't get you to wake up. I know you said not to trust anyone, but I didn't know what else to do."

"I'm not mad, Pap," Sans says. "You...you did the right thing."

Papyrus doesn't say anything to that, just hugs him. "I'm glad you're better," he says. "Are...are we gonna have to leave now?"

"I..." Sans thinks of having to dig through dumpsters for food, of hiding in trash for warmth. He's tired of living like garbage. "No. We don't have to leave. Not yet."

Papyrus nearly knocks him over in his enthusiasm. "Thank you!" he says, squeezing Sans tightly before getting up and running over to Grillby. "Grillby! Sans says we can stay!"

Sans tunes out, leaning against the couch, trying to identify the feeling blossoming in his chest. Happiness? Warmth?

_Safety,_ he thinks, finally. For the first time in a long while, he feels safe.


	4. in my nature

Grillby's too nice.

Sans is smart. People don't just do nice things like Grillby is. They don't take in two random kids who've been stealing and not expect anything in return. They don't give you food and clothing and blankets and never ask for anything back. They don't let people live in their house and never ask them questions. He’s learned that the hard way.

But Grillby hasn't asked for, or about, anything. His only request has been that they don't go into the guest room. He's seen the mark on Sans' wrist, but he hasn't brought it up. He's been feeding them, letting them sleep in his bed, use his shower - it's all too much. It's been a full week and he hasn't asked for _anything_.

Sans almost brings it up at dinner one night. They're having spaghetti, again. (Papyrus had asked for it - and that's another thing, he's always asking them what they want for dinner, or if they have any interests. The other night he came home with a bunch of human magazines, including a few about cars and one about space. Sans can't even figure out how Grillby knew.) Sans finishes eating quickly. Grillby said he could have more if he wanted but he's **fine**. One bowl is enough. He's about to speak when Grillby does.

"I've been letting you sleep in my bed for the time being," he starts. "However, the couch is...not the best place to sleep." This, at least, makes sense to him. Grillby's realising what a hassle it is, taking care of them. He'll start wanting payment. Sans can handle it. He'll let Papyrus take the couch, sleep on the floor, do whatever it is Grillby wants.

"So I've prepared a room for you two."

That's a little different. But not too unexpected. If they have their own room, Grillby can hide them if anyone comes over. He wonders, vaguely, what kind of bedding they'll have.

Grillby stands up. "Would you like to come see?" Papyrus nods eagerly. Grillby leads them to the guest room, the one he said was off-limits. He opens the door.

Inside, the room is painted a soft blue. Theres two beds, one with blankets that have pictures of cars on them. The other bed is covered in stars. Theres two night stands, toys on the beds, a dresser for clothing. All the things Grillby had in his room.

 _This is wrong,_ Sans thinks. _Why is he doing this?_

Before he can even register what's happening, Sans is stumbling back, away from the bedroom, back to the living room. He collapses next to the couch, facing the wall. 

“No,” he says to himself, “no, it's a trick, it's not real…”

"Sans?" Grillby's followed him. "Is everything alright?"

"What's the catch?" he asks, quietly. "Why are you doing all this?"

Footsteps. He's walking closer. Sans turns around to face Grillby, vision going blue around the edges. "No one does stuff like that unless they want something back," he says. "So what's the catch? What do you want?"

"I don't want anything from you," Grillby says, and the worst part is he sounds like he means it. "I only want to help you."

"You're lying. I'm not a - I'm not a dumb kid anymore." Gaster had done this to him, before. Had given him toys and blankets and then told him that the only way to keep them was to do what he said.

When that hadn't worked, he'd started threatening Papyrus.

"I'm not gonna fall for it," Sans says, shutting his eyes tight to prevent himself from crying. "I won't do it, you can't make me, you _can't_." His hands curl into fists. 

"Sans, please look at me."

"No. No! I'm not gonna listen to you!" He knows better than to listen. He'd listened once. 

Once had been enough.

"Sans, I-"

"Stop it! Stop saying my name like that! Stop lying to me! I know you're gonna hurt me, just _do it already!_ "

There's a hand on his shoulder and Sans is lashing out before he can stop himself. His fist connects with something warm.

He opens his eyes. Grillby has his fist caught in his hand. "Sans," he says, then again, "Sans, I'm not going to make you do anything. I didn't mean to upset you with the room." He releases the Sans’ hand. Sans lets his hands drop to his sides. "However, I can tell you are uncomfortable accepting a gift like this. I have a proposition."

Sans' eyes search Grillby's face for any sign of lying. 

"I have been running my restaurant alone for quite some time. I would greatly appreciate it if you and your brother would help me run it. In return, you will stay here and let me care for you."

Grillby's eyes are, for lack of a better word, warm. Kind. His voice is soft and gentle. He's kneeling down on the floor, eye level with Sans.

"Are you sure?"

"I am positive."

"That - that's it? You just want me to - to -"

"I want you to help me in the kitchen. And perhaps to also help take orders and deliver food. Perhaps even sweep the floor or wipe down tables. Nothing more, nothing less. And if at any point I assign you a task you do not wish to do, you don't have to do it."

"You swear?"

"I swear."

Sans considers Grillby for a long moment. Finally, hesitantly, he nods. Grillby nods back at him. 

"Ok," Sans says. "Ok." He pauses. "Can I start helping tomorrow?" 

"Of course," Grillby says. "I'll wake you up early and you can help me open up. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry for upsetting you," Grillby adds. "If it would make you more comfortable, I can get plainer bed sheets."

"No," Sans says. "I...I like them. They're - they're really nice." It's a bit of an understatement. They're probably the nicest blankets Sans has ever seen. 

"Sans, would you mind if I gave you a hug?"

Instead of replying, Sans steps forward, then lets himself fall into Grillby's arms. That weird feeling, the one he'd had the first night, is back, spreading a strange warmth throughout his bones. He hasnt been held like this since...ever. No one’s ever really wanted to hug him, except Papyrus. They stay like that for a while, before Grillby releases him. 

"Thank you," he says, "for letting me help. I won't pretend I understand what you are going through, but I can see you haven't had an easy time of it. If you ever want to talk, I am here. And if you don't want to talk, I am still here."

Sans nods, not trusting himself to speak. Grillby stands back up. "For now, though, I think it may be best if we both got ready for bed. Papyrus needs his bedtime story after all."

Sleep comes easily that night. He drifts off in a bed of stars, Grillby's gentle voice reading a silly story about a fluffy bunny. His dreams are filled with cotton and pasta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got an update schedule figured out. DM will update on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, with bonus updates on either Saturday or Sunday.  
> Thank you for reading!


	5. in my blood

Slowly, Sans and Papyrus get more comfortable. They go from staying in the kitchen, only helping Grillby cook, to helping wait tables and making friends with Grillby's regulars. Exactly a month to the day the two started living with him, Grillby decides it's time to treat them. For Papyrus, he buys a little remote control car. It's a bit harder to decide on something for Sans, but he ends up buying him a book about space. Grillby's even more pleased when Sans doesn't refuse the gift, instead just smiling at Grillby and going to his room.

A few days later, while Papyrus is in the living room with his little car, he hears the sound of something being thrown against the wall. He goes into Sans' room to find the book on the floor, the cover ripped and shredded, the rest covered in claw marks and scratches. Sans is hiding under his blankets, the tip of his tail poking out.

"I'm going to sit down," Grillby tells him, slowly moving his weight onto the bed until he's sitting next to Sans. "I'm not mad," he starts. "I'm just confused. I thought you liked it. I wouldn't have been upset if you'd told me."

Sans makes a noise. 

"Sans, I can't understand you."

A pause, then shuffling, then he lifts the blanket off his head. He says something, but Grillby still can't understand him. 

"It's alright if you don't want to-"

"I can't read," Sans says, looking down, shoulders hunched up.

"Oh," is all Grillby can say.

"No one ever taught me. Ex - Experiments don't need to read. Only _people_ get to do that." His hands tighten around the blanket, curling into fists.

"Would you like me to teach you?" Grillby asks, even though all he wants to do is ask Sans to explain what he means by experiment, then burn whoever said that to him. Now's not the right time. Sans can talk about that when he's ready. _If_ he's ready.

Right now, he's looking at Grillby with the worst combination of hope and disbelief, like he expects Grillby to reveal it's a trick any second. Like he's waiting for the catch. 

"You...you want to teach me?" he asks, voice hushed and shocked. "I - I don't -"

"It's a useful skill for you to have. You'd be able to help more in the kitchen," Grillby says, trying to find an excuse that will make Sans more comfortable. 

"I - I -" His face crumbles. He doesn't give Grillby time to react, instead throwing himself into Grillby’s arms. He buries his face in Grillby's sweater, shaking. It takes Grillby a moment to understand what's happening, but once he does he wraps his arms around Sans, making what he hopes are soothing noises. Soon Sans starts crying, tears soaking through Grillby's sweater, stinging his skin, but he can handle it. It's the first time Sans has initiated something like this, and he doesn't want to interrupt it.

"You shouldn't be so nice to me," Sans says between sobs, face still buried in Grillby’s chest. "I don't deserve it. I don’t understand why you keep insisting on being nice to me. All I've ever done is lie and cheat and steal and hurt people. I'm - I'm not a good person. I'm bad and - and I'm not even really a person."

Grillby doesn't know what to say. Sans is, at most, ten years old, and he's just told Grillby he doesn't deserve to know how to read because he's a bad person. It is, without a doubt, the most heartbreaking thing anyone has ever said to him. He's quiet for a moment, trying to think of how to respond.

"Sans," he says, finally. "You are not a bad person. You and your brother have made me happier than I've felt in years. Anything bad you've done - you can make up for that. You already have."

"You don't even know what I've done!" Sans says, raising his head to look at Grillby, one eye glowing blue, tears still streaming down his face. "I - I _killed_ people!" He stops himself, takes a deep breath. His eye stops glowing. "In all the stories you read me and Pap, that's what the bad guys do. They lie and cheat and steal and kill people. Good guys don't hurt people. So...so that means I'm a bad guy, too." He turns his gaze to the wall, like he's expecting Grillby to push him away. Grillby hugs him tighter, thinking of what to say.

"Let me tell you a story, then," he starts. "Once upon a time, there was a boy. He had been made to fight in the war against humans, and had done his job. He had killed many people, and regretted his actions horribly. He was convinced nothing he did could ever make things right, that he was forever a bad person who didn't deserve anything. He felt that he should be punished for what he had done. Do you know what he did?"

"No," Sans says.

"He opened a restaurant. He had always loved to cook, and he thought that maybe, instead of hiding away from the world, he could try to give back, and make up for the suffering he had caused. It took time, but eventually, he no longer felt that he was a bad person. Yes, he had done bad things, but he regretted them, and tried his best to make things better. His past did not define him. Do you understand where I'm going with this?"

"Was the boy you?" Sans asks.

"Yes," Grillby answers. 

Sans falls silent, collapsing back into Grillby's arms. 

"Whatever things you have done, Sans, I promise you can make up for them. You are not a bad person." 

Sans doesn't speak, settling instead for nodding into Grillby's sweater. 

"My earlier offer still stands," Grillby says. "I would still be willing to teach you and Papyrus to read. If you're okay with it."

"Okay," Sans says, then again, "Okay. That...that sounds good." His shaking slows. He looks up. "Hey, Grillby?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks. For - for everything. I'm glad I met you."

"I'm glad I met you as well, Sans. You and Papyrus have helped me quite a bit."

"We...we have?"

"Yes, you have."

"But we're just...two little kids who were eating your garbage."

"Yes, and now you're two little kids helping me run my restaurant and giving my life more purpose."

Sans goes quiet again, but this time he's smiling.

There's still a lot Grillby doesn't know. But for now, he's content to sit there, Sans half asleep in his arms. He can ask him questions later. For now, what he has is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while writing this chapter i had the realisation that anime is canonically trash in undertale and i need to share this info.
> 
> also, i'm setting up an undertale chat on slack! if you're interested, shoot me a message here or on tumblr.


	6. save me oh save me

Grillby was woken by the sound of screaming.

He sighs, sitting up slowly. Sans had nightmares like this often, and there was never a good way to deal with it. Letting him sleep meant more screaming and sobbing. But trying to wake him up led to Sans lashing out, attacking him, and even then he didn't always wake up.

His door opens. "Grillby?" Papyrus asks, poking his head into the room. "Can I come in?"

"Of course you can," Grillby says, turning on his light and moving over to make room for Papyrus.

"Sans's having a nightmare again," Papyrus says, yawning a bit. "I tried to wake him up."

"Are you okay? Did he-"

"'m fine," Papyrus mumbles, curling up close to Grillby. 

"I know it's scary to see Sans like this," Grillby says, unsure how to handle the situation. "But-"

Papyrus lets out a tiny snore. Grillby laughs fondly. 

_I'll talk to Sans in the morning,_ he thinks. It's not healthy for him to have such troubled sleep, and it's getting to the point where it's affecting Papyrus. 

For now he lies back down and goes to sleep.

-

He wakes up to find both boys on his bed, snoring loudly, sprawled across the blankets and each other. Papyrus's tail twitches, nearly hitting Grillby's face. He attempts to move his leg, only for Sans to growl vaguely, still sleeping. 

There are worse way to wake up, he supposes. 

Sans is the first one to wake up, blinking rapidly to clear the fog from his eyes, then stretching. He reminds Grillby of a cat with the way his spine arches.

"Good morning," Grillby says. Sans at least looks a bit sheepish. "I take it you slept well?"

Sans gives a shrug.

"I heard you screaming last night," Grillby admits. Sans freezes and looks at Papyrus significantly. 

Grillby sits up. Papyrus doesn't wake up, so he lifts him and carries the tiny monster back to his room. He goes back into his room. Sans is sitting on the bed, in his bipedal form, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Sans....Do you have nightmares?"

Sans nods.

"Is that why I hear you making so much noise at night?"

Another nod.

"Do you think it might help to talk about it?"

At that Sans shakes his head. 

"I used to have nightmares as well. I know it may seem hard, but talking does help." Sans shakes his head again. "I won't force you to speak if you do not wish to. Just know that while they may seem terrifying, they are just nightmare. They aren't real, and they cannot hurt you."

"They were real, though," Sans says. "They aren't just dreams. They're memories." He pauses. "Do you really think talking will help?"

"I do. But you don't need to talk if you don't want to."

Sans doesn't reply. Instead he gets up and walks to the door, looking into the hallway before retreating back into Grillby's room. He shuts the door behind him and sits back on the bed, curling into himself a bit.

"Papyrus and I aren't normal monsters," he starts. "We don't...." he trails off, trying to find the words. "We're not...." Grillby sits down next to Sans.

"Take your time," he says.

"We were supposed to be weapons," Sans says. "There was this - his name's Gaster. He's a scientist. He made me and Papyrus. The whole shapeshifting thing, we're supposed to always be in that form. He called it a Gaster Blaster. I don't what his plan was, but when we were old enough he was gonna use us to break this thing - the Barrier, I think he called it - but I dont know how." Sans lets of a huff of breath. "I think that was his plan, at least. He never told us anything. But when I was down in the lab I'd overhear him talking to other scientists sometimes."

He leans his head against Grillby's shoulder. "He didn't like talking to us," Sans says, quietly. "He'd do all these experiments and I'd ask why he was doing them, what the point was, what was happening,and he....He'd tell me to stop distracting him. Eventually he stopped replying when I tried talking, he'd just hit me and move on. 'Experiments don't talk. Only _people_ get to do that,'" Sans says, imitating someone with a much raspier voice than his own. "He said that about a lot of things. 'That's for people, S-1. You're not a person. You are an experiment, nothing more.' And then he'd go back to whatever tests he was making me do that day."

Sans looks up at Grillby, then turns away. Grillby realises he's let his flame grow more than he usually does.

"I would like to meet this Gaster," he says, darkly. "He had no right to tell you that. You are a person, Sans."

"Do people have serial numbers?" Sans asks, pulling his sleeve down to show the numbers and letters on his wrist. "They don't, right?"

"No," Grillby admits. "But that doesn't change the fact that you are a person, with thoughts and feelings. If there's anyone that isn't a person, it would be him."

Sans almost smiles at that. It fades quickly.

"When I fall asleep, I dream about all the experiments he did. There were...a lot. They all kinda blur together. So it's a memory, but at the same time, I never know what'll happen next."

"Let me teach you a trick I used to use when I had bad dreams." He stands up, goingg into the closet, picking up a ragged, slightly scorched stuffed bear. "This is Grizz. When you're having a bad dream, he'll keep you safe."

"....He's just a stuffed toy."

"Well...yes. But believing that you have someone to protect you helps."

"I already do have someone to protect me," Sans says, looking the bear over. "I have you."

Grillby's startled into silence. Sans looks at him, embarrassed. "Sorry," he says quickly, "I - I didn't mean to - I understand if you don't wanna -"

"No, no, don't apologize," Grillby says, pulling Sans into a hug. "I'm very glad to hear you think of me that way. I will do everything I can to protect you. And your brother."

Sans looks up at him, a shocked look on his face, like he still can't believe someone would care about him that much.

"Theres - theres something I should tell you," Sans says, looking back down at the toy in his hands. "Papyrus and I - when we left the lab, it wasn't because Gaster let us. We ran away. And...And I think he's probably looking for us."

"He will have to get through me before he can get anywhere near you two. I meant it when I said I would protect you. If Gaster shows up, I will keep you safe."

Sans hugs him before glancing at the clock. "I should go wake up Papyrus," he says, slipping out of Grillby's arms. Grillby follows, watching Sans nudge his brother awake.

He hasn't had to fight anyone in a very long time. Grillby had hoped his days of violence were long over.

But Sans is jumping on his brother's bed, and Papyrus is whining at him to stop even as he laughs. When they see Grillby in the doorway they don't flinch, just smile at him.

He'd hoped he was done with violence, but in that instant Grillby knows he would burn down a city if it meant seeing the two smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the lack of a chapter on wednesday! writers block was kicking my ass. i may try to do extra updates on sunday and saturday, depending on how busy i am.
> 
> my editor is in england and had to do edits on mobile, so there may be some spelling errors. if you see any please tell me!
> 
> updates might not be as regular in the coming few weeks, as I'm getting ready for a convention and have a lot of last minute cosplay things to sort out.


	7. save me from myself

Papyrus is many things. He’s clever and kind and good at cooking and, above all else, he wants to make sure people are happy.

And Sans is most certainly not happy.

Sans tries to hide it, but Papyrus knows. Sans’ smile never quite reaches his eyes. Even now, living in this incredible house with Grillby, he can tell Sans is still sad. He can hear him at night, shaking and crying in his sleep. 

It scares Papyrus, seeing his brother like that. Sans, for all his sadness, has always been strong. He’d protected Papyrus when they lived in the labs, kept Gaster from hurting him, even if it meant getting hurt himself. And when they’d escaped he’d still done everything he could to keep Papyrus safe.

But at night, it was like he was a different person. He would start screaming and sobbing, sometimes even using his magic, and when Grillby tried to wake him up Sans would lash out. Or, worse, he would hurt himself.

On especially bad nights, Papyrus goes to sleep in Grillby’s room. He tries not to. To be strong and brave, like Sans is for him. But some nights, it's hard.

Tonight, for instance. Tonight, Sans is talking in his sleep. It’s new, and it's terrifying.

“No,” he keeps saying, over and over, “no no no no I won’t I won’t I won't -”

“Sans?” Papyrus asks quietly. 

“I won’t hurt him, you can’t make me, you _can't_ , I won't hurt him…”

Papyrus gets out of bed and tries to shake his brother awake. For a moment it seems like it’s working. Sans sits up, but when Papyrus reaches out to touch his shoulder Sans swipes at him, growling. His eyes are wide, left one glowing blue, and there's no sign of recognition in them. They’re open, but they’re not seeing anything.

“Sans? Sans, please, you’re scaring me -”

“You can’t make me,” Sans says again. “I won’t let you. You can hurt me all you want but I **won't let you touch P̵a̶p̸y̵r̵u̷s̸**.” He snarls the last word, turning to look at Papyrus, eyes still wide and unseeing. Papyrus doesn't try to talk to Sans again. He runs. He doesn't knock on Grillby’s door, just flings it open and dives into the bed, startling Grillby awake.

“Papyrus? Is everything okay?” Papyrus doesn't reply, still shaking. Sans had tried to attack him. That’s two new things in one night. “Papyrus, please say something.” He doesn't speak, still, so Grillby switched tactics. 

“Try to take a deep breath,” he says, and Papyrus does. “Good. Another one.”

It takes several minutes and a few more deep breaths before Papyrus calms down enough to explain what had happened. He opens his mouth to speak, thinks of the way Sans looked at him, and starts crying instead.

“I think something's wrong with Sans,” he manages to say between sobs. “He was saying all these weird things. He said that he wasn't gonna hurt me. But - but he was trying to hurt me. He was clawing at me. He wouldn't stop screaming. He had his eyes open but it was like he didn't see me. It was really scary,” he finishes. 

“Oh, Papyrus,” Grillby says, rubbing his back. “Sans was still asleep. It wasn't you he was trying to attack. It was whoever was in his dream.”

“Why does he have dreams like that?”

Grillby hesitates. 

“I mean, we’re okay now, right? We’re safe. But he’s still so sad all the time. I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Sometimes, when a person goes through something bad, it stays with them.” He pauses. “Think of it like...the clay I got for you.”

“The clay I got spaghetti in?”

“Yes, that clay. We tried to get the spaghetti out of it, but there are still pieces inside. Something bad happening can be like that. You can get rid of the immediate issue, can leave the place that's hurting you or, in the case of the clay, try to get the spaghetti out. But there's still traces. It still leaves a mark.”

It makes a certain kind of sense. Still… “Isn’t there a way to make it not leave a mark? To make it better?”

“Time helps. Being away from what hurt you in the first place. But there's no easy way to fix it. All we can do it be there for Sans.”

“I’ll be there for him forever,” Papyrus says firmly. “No matter what. Even if he scratches at me, or growls, even if he’s being scary, I’ll be there for him.”

“You’re a good brother, Papyrus.”

“I am? I mean, uh, of course I am! I’m the Great Papyrus!” he puffs his chest out a bit. Grillby laughs.

“The Great Papyrus should try to go back to sleep,” Grillby says. “I’ll go see if I can wake up Sans. It might help him to sleep in here for tonight.”

Papyrus nods, then shifts to blaster form and curls up on the pillow. Distantly he can hear Grillby talking to Sans, but he tunes it out.

Sans needs help, that much is clear. Papyrus isn't sure how he can help, but he makes a promise to himself that he’ll do his best. He’ll be the best, most supportive brother in the whole world.

He’s half asleep when he hears the door open, followed by footsteps, and then the familiar feeling of his brother curling up around him. 

“ _Sorry for scaring you,_ ” Sans says, in the strange language they use when they’re in blaster form.

“ _It’s okay,_ ” Papyrus says. He doesn't really like using the other language - it makes his throat sore when he uses it too much - but shifting would take far too much energy right now, and he’s just gotten himself comfortable.

“ _I tried to hurt you,_ ” Sans says.

“ _But you didn't,_ ” Papyrus argues. “ _You didn't hurt me. And even if you had, you didn't know it was me._ ”

“ _I’m sorry,_ ” Sans says again. 

Papyrus doesn't reply, just nestles closer to his brother. “ _I don't know what it is you see in your dreams,_ ” he whispers, “ _And I get the feeling you don't wanna tell me. But I won’t let those dreams hurt you. You’ve been protecting me all my life. It’s my turn to protect you._ ”

For once, Sans doesn't argue. “ _You’re the greatest brother ever,_ ” he says, instead.

“ _I know,_ ” Papyrus says. 

Sans isn't okay. But Papyrus knows he will be. It's good enough, for now. He rests his head on his brother's chest and falls asleep.


	8. before i hurt somebody else again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title of this on my google drive is "im probably going to hell for this"

It had almost been a good day. Sans and Papyrus were playing the living room. Papyrus had made a pile of stuffed animals and was currently in blaster form, rolling around. Grillby was sitting on the couch, reading. 

And then everything goes wrong. 

There's a sudden, sharp pain in Sans’ chest. It doesn't stop there, though. He's shifting, but not by choice. He tries to stop, to move, to do something - but he can't control his own movements anymore. He lets out a wail and collapses to his knees. 

"Sans?" Grillby asks, kneeling down next to him. Sans can't even find the strength to respond. "Sans, what's wrong?" Sans manages to look up, shaking, before a new wave of pain crashes over him, sending him pitching forward into Grillby's arms. He can feel his bones crack and pop as they reshape, each movement causing new pain. Even breathing is agony, made worse by the growing sense of panic in his chest. 

"Hurts," he manages to say. 

"What hurts?" Grillby asks, rubbing Sans' back gently. "Shifting?"

Sans nods, then winces. "Should be easy," he says, "don't - don't know why it's - it's -" He bites back another cry. The pain comes in waves as he shifts slowly, tricking him into thinking it's stopping, before getting worse. It's becoming harder to speak, to think. He can hear Grillby talking but it sounds far away, muffled, like when a TV isn’t working and there's a layer of static over everything.

"Breathe," Grillby is saying. "Focus on me."

"S-scared," he chokes out, hating the way his voice catches.

"I'm right here," Grillby says. The static is getting heavier. "Focus on my voice, Sans. I'm right here."

"Hurts," he says again, "don't wanna - don't wanna shift, w-want it to - to - _ah!_ " This time, he can't stop the sound that tears out of his throat. It’s somewhere between a sob and a growl. The static in his head is starting to drown out everything else. He shuts his eyes, trying to focus.

"Breathe," Grillby says, and Sans does his best. He can barely make out what Grillby's saying anymore, can barely remember what he was doing before the pain started. 

He hears a voice saying....something. He can't tell what. He tries to say something in return, but all he can do is growl desperately. He can't remember what he was doing, where he is, _who_ he is. All he knows is that he wants it to stop. There's a faint pressure on him, noise coming from all sides. 

What is happening to him? He can't remember anything. He tries to pull away from the pressure, from the sound, but he can't feel his body through the pain and static. He slams into the table, eventually ending up a crumpled mess on the floor. He opens his eyes to see a figure approaching him, making sounds he doesn’t understand. He growls in warning, but it comes closer. It makes another sound and tries to headbutt him.

He panics, lashing out at the thing. All his fear and confusion and pain - he pours it into his attacks. A few times his claws connect with something and tear, but there's a burning pain and he pulls away. The static is worse than ever. He pulls himself into a corner, growling at the blurry shapes that won't stop moving around him. It's so loud now, his paws are still burning, and the earlier pain is coming back as well. His entire body - his soul even - everything is pure agony. He shuts his eyes tight. 

Time passes. He's not sure how much. But after a long while, the pain is gone and the noise separates into words.

"Sans," someone is saying, over and over. 

Sans....thats him, right? He's Sans. Slowly, his mind comes back. He opens his eyes tentatively.

"Grill...by?"

Grillby's shoulders relax and he lets out a breath. "Oh, thank god," he says, almost to himself. "Sans, are you alright?" It’s then that Sans notices Grillby’s shirt is torn and there’s something orange leaking out of the gash. Grillby sees where Sans is looking and moves to cover it. "I'm fine," he says. "It's just a scratch."

"I hurt you," Sans said, eyes wide. He looks around the room, standing up and pulling himself out of the corner just a bit. It's a mess. There's claw marks on the walls and in the floor, and the coffee table is in pieces on the ground. A few ripped up stuffed animals are leaking stuffing, and one looks like it might have been on fire at one point.

The worst part, though, is that Papyrus is hiding under the table.

"Pa...Papyrus?"

"Sans? Are you okay now?"

Sans moves to go closer to his brother. Papyrus flinches. 

Sans stops moving.

"Did....did I do all this?"

Neither Grillby nor Papyrus will meet his eyes. Sans looks at Papyrus again, trying to see if he'd left any marks on his brother. 

"I'm fine," Papyrus says, smiling, holding up his hands. "See?"

There’s a hole in his shirt.

"No," Sans says, feeling tears slide down his face, unable to stop them. "No, no, no!"

"Sans, it's okay," Grillby says gently. "You didn't mean to, it's not your fault."

"I - I -"

Grillby takes a step towards him.

"Stay away from me!" Sans shouts, scrambling backwards, tripping over an object that he thinks might have been the stuffed toy Grillby gave him. Grillby stays still.

"It's okay," he says again. "Sans, please, you're hurt as well."

Sans looks down at himself. His hands are covered in what looks like blood and scorch marks.

He feels sick.

Grillby kneels down. "You didn't mean to," he says. "Please let me help."

He takes a step forward, closer to Grillby. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Papyrus. His shirt moves a bit, and Sans can see a deep cut on his arm. He's bleeding.

Sans steps away from Grillby and walks towards the door. He puts a hand on the knob.

"Sans," Grillby says, getting up to stop him. He winces when he stands, though, and Sans sees it’s not just his arm that’s cut.

"I hurt you," Sans says. "Both of you. I'm - I'm -"

"You didn't mean to," Grillby says yet again. 

"I'm sorry," Sans says, and then he opens the door and runs.

He can hear Grillby calling his name, but he’s fast and Grillby is hurt. He keeps running and doesn't stop until he's deep in the forest, far away from Snowdin and Grillby and Papyrus and anyone else he could hurt. It's just him and the snow and the trees. 

Papyrus doesn't need him anymore. Grillby can take care of him. Sans...he doesn't deserve all that kindness. It's better that he stay here. He curls up underneath a tree, shivering a bit. Staying at Grillby's has him too used to warmth. He'll get over it, though, get used to sleeping in the snow again. 

It takes a while, but he manages to fall asleep. He doesn't notice the tall black figure watching him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY FRIEND MADDIE DREW FANART FOR THIS CHAPTER AND ITS WONDERFUL  
> http://lakesandquarries.tumblr.com/post/135934924331/werebi-official-art-for-chapter-8-of-domino  
> PLEASE LOOK AT IT!! ITS SO GOOD


	9. jump starts when we touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this chapter is heavy.  
> shoutout to a certain tol nerd for helping with this.

Sans very rarely refused to go along with experiments.

There was a reason Gaster referred to their four-legged forms as their blaster forms. They were capable of a lot of things in that form, and the most powerful - and most dangerous - was the blasts of pure magic they could unleash. Gaster tested that ability often, typically with moving wooden targets.

But then, one day, he had brought Sans into the target room for blasting practice and there hadn't been one. Just a fuzzy white creature scampering around on the ground. 

"Shift and kill it," Gaster said. "Use the blast."

"What?"

"Do not make me repeat myself, S-1."

The creature sniffed at Sans. It was so tiny, defenseless, _alive._

"S-1," Gaster said. "Stop stalling."

"B-but -" The creature had no idea what was about to happen to it, nudging at Sans with a confused squeak. He felt sick.

" _S-1._ "

"No," Sans said, very quietly, then again, louder, "no! I won't kill it!"

"You're being needlessly difficult, S-1. _Kill it._ "

"No," Sans said.

Gaster sighed. "If you don't do this, I will take away your food."

"Don't care."

"You know the punishment for refusing to cooperate, S-1. Do you really think it's worth it just to spare this - thing?"

Sans does know. The punishment is a thing Gaster refers to as control, where he forces Sans out of his own body, letting him pilot Sans as if they were one person. He would control Sans and not let him do anything, sometimes for days. 

"Do whatever you want," Sans said. "I'm not going to kill it. I don't care how much you hurt me."

"Hm," Gaster said. "Well, then. If you don't kill it, I won't punish you." He paused. "I will punish P-2."

Sans eyes went wide. "No," he said. 

"Does this mean you will behave?"

Reluctantly, Sans shifted. The little creature looked at him questioningly. He hesitated.

Without warning, a blast fired from him. He'd lost control over his body, only able to watch in horror as the little creature was destroyed. He hates how it feels when Gaster takes control of him. It feels like falling, like the ground’s been ripped out from underneath him, until Gaster is done and he’s slammed back into his body.

"You don't get to say no," Gaster had said, later. "I have no tolerance for hesitation. When I tell you to do something, you do it, or I will make you. Next time you force me to control you, I will use you to punish P-2."

He hadn't given Sans time to react, throwing him into the little cell he shared with Papyrus and locking the door.

\---

Sans wakes up in the snow. There are tears frozen to his face, blood frozen between his joints. His clothing is soggy with partially melted snow, his head's pounding, and his only coherent thought is ‘ _maybe I should just stay here and never get up._ ’

He'd been so stupid, thinking he could be happy with Grillby. He didn't deserve the kindness, the gifts, didn't deserve the soft warm bed and stuffed animals and story books. Grillby could argue all he wanted. Sans knew the truth, and the truth was that he was bad, and dangerous, and he should have left the minute he knew Papyrus was safe.

As he lies there, though, he becomes aware of a sound. Footsteps. Someone's found him.

Sans sits up, hands clenched into fists. "Who's there?" he calls, trying to keep his voice from shaking. _Please don't be Grillby or Papyrus,_ he begs silently.

It's not. It's much, much worse.

Gaster steps out from behind a tree and smiles. "Took you long enough to notice," he says, and it's all Sans can do to keep breathing.

"St-stay away from me," he says, standing up slowly, leaning on the tree behind him for support. 

"And why should I do that?" Gaster asks.

"I'll kill you," Sans says. "If you come any closer, I'll kill you, I won't let you -" he cuts himself off.

"Won't let me what? Won't let me hurt P-2? I have no need to. You did a fine job hurting him on your own."

Sans roars and lunges at Gaster, who side steps him easily.

"Stop fighting," Gaster says. Sans can feel Gaster trying to control him, can recognize the way the ground seems to be miles below his feet. "I don't know why you insist on fighting me, S-1."

"Don't call me that," Sans growls. "I have a name."

"No, you don't." Sans knows Gaster is just trying to make him mad at this point, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. "People have names. _Monsters_ have names. You are an experiment."

Sans lunges for him again.

"I'm not in the mood for this," Gaster says. "If you stop fighting, things will be easier for you. Besides. Who would want to care for an experiment, much less one that attacked them? You have nowhere else to go."

"That’s - I -"

"That's why you ran, isn't it? You knew they would want nothing to do with you. Face it, S-1, you don't belong out here. You're not made for this. You're a killer, S-1, and that's all you'll ever be."

 _He's right,_ some poisonous part of Sans' mind whispers. _You're nothing but a dangerous freak._ The ground is so far away now. He's starting to fall.

"Maybe I am," Sans says out loud, "but I won't let you control me any more. I'll stop you, I'll - I'll _kill_ you, and then you won't be able to hurt anyone."

Gaster laughs.

"S-1, if you tried to kill me, I would not allow you to. You know this."

"I won't let you," Sans says. "I'm stronger than you are. I'm not gonna let you hurt anyone anymore."

When he shifts, it doesn't hurt. His feet are solidly on the ground now. Gaster is doing his best to control him, but Sans refuses to stop fighting back. He attacks Gaster with everything he has, biting and scratching and hitting, until Gaster's leaning against a tree, his own attacks fading. He's in bad shape, bleeding from a number of wounds, and some small, cruel part of Sans is glad.

Despite all this, Gaster is smiling.

Sans shifts back to two legs, keeping an eye on Gaster. He takes a deep breath.

"Why?" he asks.

"Everything I did was to make life better for monsters," Gaster says. "All of it. Every experiment, I did to make life better for every person in the underground. If a few experiments got hurt in the process, well, they don't matter much in the end."

"I'm a monster too," Sans says quietly. "I - I matter. I have thoughts and feelings and - and - and I'm not going to let you hurt me, or anyone else _ever again_." He shifts back to blaster form.

Gaster tries to move, but he's badly injured. Sans aims.

He doesn't miss his target.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY SHITSCRAM EVERYONE


	10. the black cloud approaching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first off, i hope you all had a merry christmas! check back on chapter 8, also, because a friend drew art for it and its AMAZING.  
> also, thank you for all the comments and reactions! greatest christmas gift i could ask for.  
> updates will be slow for the next week due to me having a convention.

When it’s all over - when Gaster is nothing but a pile of dust in the snow - Sans collapses.

He's never felt as tired as he does in this moment. He feels drained and empty and he wonders if this is what dying feels like.

There are worse ways it could have happened. He could have died in the lab. If he dies here, well, at least Papyrus will be safe. Not just from Gaster, but from Sans as well. 

Grillby can take care of Papyrus. They'll be okay, will probably be better off without Sans there to hurt them. The world will be fine without him. It's not like he ever contributed much, after all. 

Sans curls up in the snow, closes his eyes, and lets the world fade to black.

\---

He's woken up by someone shaking him and shouting.

He blinks awake slowly, alive and unbearably tired.

Grillby is kneeling down next to him, and when he sees Sans open his eyes, he breathes a heavy sigh of relief. He pulls Sans into a hug. Sans lets him, if only because he lacks the strength to get away.

"You shouldn't be here," Sans says. "You should go back home. Please."

"What happened was an accident, it wasn't -" Grillby starts to say, but Sans cuts him off.

"It doesn't matter if it was an accident! I hurt you, I - I hurt _Papyrus_ , I - I’m dangerous, you can’t - you shouldn't -” he shakes his head, trying to find the right words.

"Sans -"

" _I killed him!_ " he blurts, and then again, quieter, "I killed him." His face feels wet. "He just showed up - I don't know how he found me - and he said all these things - I got so mad, I just... I killed him. But he was right. About everything. I'm not a monster. I'm worse.

"The only good thing I ever did was protect Papyrus, and I couldn’t even -” his throat closes up. He’s crying, and trying to stop just makes it harder to speak. “He can't hurt him any more, but…I can." He pulls away from Grillby, just enough so he can see his face. "You have to take care of him. Please. Because I can't."

"I'm not going to leave you here, Sans," Grillby says. "I don't care what you've done, I'm not going to leave you here to freeze to death."

"Why do you keep - don’t you get it? I'm dangerous, I hurt you, I killed Ga -” he can’t say the name, afraid he’ll return somehow. “I killed _him_ , and he wasn’t even the first!" Sans takes a breath and pulls away further from Grillby, looking down. "If I wanted," he says, voice catching on the words, "If I wanted, I could kill you. I wouldn't even have to try." He can't bring himself to look at Grillby, ashamed by how easily he hurt him before and how easily it could happen again. Grillby doesn't respond for a while.

"When I was a child," Grillby starts, then pauses. "I hurt people. Many people. Usually it was an accident. But...I had no home, and so I lived in a shelter. I was expected to work to make up for the cost of feeding and housing me. There were other children there, and one who was particularly cruel, not just to me but to everybody. And one day, I was so angry, I stopped trying to control myself. I had to be physically held back from trying to kill him."

Sans is silent. The idea of Grillby getting mad like like that...He can't even imagine it.

"I have not had the easiest life," Grillby admits. "I've done things I regret. I've felt similar to how you feel right now - that I was dangerous, and bad, and shouldn't be allowed near other people. But I was wrong. No matter what you've done, Sans, you are still a person, and you deserve to be happy."

Grillby places a hand on Sans’ shoulder, and Sans releases a shuddering breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"No matter what happens, I will be here to help you. I'll never leave you."

"I'm sorry," Sans says, over and over. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

"It's okay. I'm not mad. You don't need to apologize."

"I don't deserve any of this," Sans says, voice thick with tears. "I don't - I’m not -" he makes a nose of frustration, trying to find the words.

"It's okay," Grillby says again. "You've had a lot happen to you. But even if you don't believe it, it's true. You deserve so much better than what you've been given."

"I'm gonna screw up again. I'm gonna - I'll hurt you again, or I'll hurt Papyrus, or - I'm gonna ruin everything, and then you'll hate me."

"I'll never hate you, Sans. I am more resilient than you think, and I promise I will do all I can to make sure both you and your brother are safe and happy, and that includes you being there for him. You and Papyrus are like family to me. I won't let anything bad happen to either of you. No matter what, I will be there for you. Does that sound good?"

Sans can barely get the words out. "Yeah," he says, eventually, wiping his face on his sleeve. "Yeah, that sounds -" his voice shakes. "That sounds really good."

"Come on," Grillby says, getting up. "Let’s go home."

Sans tries to stand up, only for his legs to crumble beneath him. "Sans?" Grillby asks. He leans back down. "Would you like it if I carried you?"

Sans has to wipe his face again, but he’s smiling now. He nods. "Yeah."

Grillby picks Sans up, then adjusts so that Sans is on his back. He's never felt to safe before, even with the ground far below his feet. Sans lets himself relax that final bit into Grillby's constant warmth and feels he's finally found a place he can actually call home.

\---

Papyrus is ecstatic to see him. He nearly knocks Grillby over in his enthusiasm. Grillby helps Sans onto the couch and Papyrus is next to him before he can even blink.

"Don't ever leave again," Papyrus says, nestling close to his brother. 

"I won’t," Sans says. "I'm sorry I ran off. But I'm not gonna do it again."

"You promise?"

"I’ll never leave you. I promise."

Papyrus looks at Sans like he’s searching for something, and then, seemingly pleased with what he finds, lays his head on Sans’ lap. 

“Now you’re trapped,” he says, yawning. He’s asleep in seconds, wrapped around his brother and snoring peacefully. 

Sans can’t think of anywhere he’d rather be.


	11. here it comes now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY FOR HOW LONG IT TOOK FOR ME TO WRITE THIS CHAPTER  
> i had this whole hanukkah themed fluff planned but it was just not going anywhere. and then i had a convention and i was super busy and when i got home i just sat in bed and did nothing for three days.  
> BUT I FINALLY GOT THIS CHAPTER WRITTEN IM SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! HOPEFULLY I SHOULD BE BACK ON SCHEDULE NOW. THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR PATIENCE!!!

Slowly, life returns to normal. Or at least something close to it. Sans spends a lot of time in his room, at first, acting like he had when he'd first started living there. He retreats into himself again, not talking as much, looking guilty whenever he asks for anything. He doesn’t say anything about Gaster, or what happened out in the forest. Grillby knows that, at some point, he'll need to talk to Sans about it. Sans clearly has a lot of unresolved issues, a lot of guilt and fear and hurt, and Grillby knows it’s not good for him to keep it all bottled up.

For now, though, he focuses on making him happy, doing his best to keep Sans occupied and distracted. He starts giving the two cooking lessons. It’s a complete disaster the first time they try - they make spaghetti, and Papyrus insists on punching the tomatoes, while Sans sneaks bits of uncooked pasta. Papyrus, in his excitement, calls the pasta _nooders_ instead of _noodles_ , and Sans nearly falls over laughing.

It’s a mess, yes, but seeing the two so happy and carefree is worth any amount of mess. He starts teaching them to bake as well, starting with cookies.

"Would you like to try to crack the eggs?" Grillby asks Sans and Papyrus, who both nod. He's shown them how to do it a few times, so Grillby's confident it won’t get too messy. He gives them each an egg and a bowl, then goes back to mixing the dry ingredients.

Papyrus considers his egg for a moment, before raising his arm and slamming the egg onto the counter. 

Bits of egg go everywhere, the runny whites landing on all three of them, making sizzling noises where they land on Grillby. The yoke is all over the counter and running down onto the floor, and Grillby's pretty sure he sees some on the ceiling. There’s complete silence for a moment as he takes in the damage.

"Oops," Papyrus says, and Grillby bursts into laughter.

He regrets it almost instantly. His mouth is showing now, and he’s still got the bowl in his hands, meaning he can’t cover it that way either.

"Whoa," Sans says, eyes wide. "Grillby, you have a face!"

He puts the bowl down carefully. "Technically, I always have a face. I just...hide it, most of the time."

"How come?" Papyrus asks.

Grillby hesitates.

"Before I learned to hide it, I was told that my appearance made people uncomfortable. Anyone who wasn't frightened of me would ridicule me for how I looked." Sharp fangs made of fire tended to make people nervous, he'd learned.

"I think it looks cool," Sans says, giving a wide smile of his own. Papyrus nods.

"Your teeth are all sharp and stuff, like ours, but yours are made of fire which makes them cooler," Papyrus says.

"I think that would make them warmer," Sans says.

Papyrus elbows Sans sharply. "No puns."

"But they're so punny," Sans says, trying (and failing) not to laugh.

Grillby is only half paying attention. He'd never considered the two skeletons to ever be scary, but they do have some qualities others might find frightening. Sharp teeth, sharp nails, the way they could let the lights in their eyes go out, leaving just empty sockets...and that wasn’t even touching on their blaster form.

"Grillby?" Sans says, breaking the elemental out of his thoughts.

"Sorry, I was just...thinking. I got a bit distracted."

"What should we do about the eggs?" Papyrus asks.

"I have more. Here let me show you how to crack them without....well, all this," Grillby says, gesturing at the bits of egg everywhere.

"I think it’s _eggstraordinary_ how big of a mess we made," Sans says.

"Saaans," Papyrus whines.

"What? That was an _eggcelent_ pun."

"Grillby, make him stop," Papyrus pleads, but Grillby is too busy laughing to be of help. 

Eventually, they manage to finish the cookies. Attempting to decorate them ends with Papyrus covered in frosting, somehow, but all in all it’s a success.

"Could we help out in the kitchen sometimes?" Papyrus asks, licking frosting off his face.

"I would be thrilled to have you help," Grillby says. "Both of you. I'll have you start with simple things, but I think you both could become great chefs."

For all their messiness, the two are good at cooking. Grillby will just have to keep an eye on them.

The next morning he wakes them up early and explains what they'll be doing. It’s a lot of very simple tasks - washing and cutting fruit, assembling burgers (not cooking them, he knows Sans will try and sneak a bite from one or Papyrus will get excited and something will end up on the ceiling), pouring drinks - easy things. But they both seem thrilled to be helping.

And, even though the tasks they're doing are small, Grillby quickly finds it really does save him a lot of time. He ends up needing the extra time, as his restaurant is much busier than normal. No one is staying for long, and it’s all people he doesn’t recognise. He wonders about this briefly, before returning his attention to more important things.

He makes his way to a table, and the customer speaks before he can even say hello.

"Two burgers," he says. Grillby nods.

"And, uh, I'm s'posed to be hanging up flyers right now...Would ya mind if I hung one up in here?"

"What kind of flyer?" Grillby asks.

"Some big scientist dude went missing. My sister works with him, insisted I come help look." He hands Grillby a flyer.

"MISSING" it reads, in huge font. There’s a picture of a man, and underneath the picture it reads: "Dr. W. D. Gaster, last seen in Snowdin, missing for several days. Please contact the CORE if you have seen him." Underneath that is a phone number.

"Grillby?" Sans calls, walking out of the kitchen. "There’s kind of a - I might accidentally poured an entire bottle of ketchup on -" He freezes. "What - what’s that?" he asks, and Grillby can hear the effort in his voice. Grillby all but throws the flyer back at the customer.

"I'll be back in one moment," he says, taking Sans' hand and gently pulling him back towards the kitchen, then further, into the house.

"What was that?" Sans asks again, voice trembling. He squeezes Grillby’s hand, and he can feel Sans' shaking.

"It was a missing person flyer," Grillby says quietly.

Sans' breath hitches. 

"It’s going to be okay," Grillby says. "I won’t let them put up the flyer."

"That'll -" his breath catches again. He pauses, forcing himself to breath slowly, but his voice still shakes. "That'll seem s-suspicious," he says. 

"I'll have them hang it up outside, then. So you don’t have to see it."

"They're gonna figure it out," Sans whispers. "They're gonna figure out that I - I'm gonna go to jail, what if they take you or Papyrus too? They might think you h-helped -" His breathing is getting faster, until he's nearly hyperventilating. He closes his eyes, hands clenching into fists. "I screwed everything up, just when I thought things might be _okay_ \- I'm so stupid, I should have known something like this would happen -"

"I won’t let anything happen to you," Grillby says. "I promise."

His eyes fly open, fear and anxiety evident on his face. "But - he was the _Royal Scientist_ , Grillby, they aren’t gonna stop searching until the find who k-k-killed him, and then they wanna punish whoever did it - I'm scared," he admits. He seems so small, so tiny and fragile and Grillby feels a surge of protectiveness for him.

"I won’t let anyone punish you, alright? Its okay to be scared. But I will be here, and I won’t let anything bad happen." He pauses before adding, "Do you want a hug?"

Sans nods. Grillby obliges.

"Everything will be okay. I won’t let anything bad happen to you or Papyrus, I promise." He pulls back after a moment. "I'm going to go deal with that customer, alright? I'll come check on you in a couple of minutes. Can you handle that?"

Sans nods. "Th-thanks," he says. There’s a distant crash and a muffled "whoops!" from the kitchen. "I'm gonna go make sure Papyrus didn’t break anything," Sans says, before dashing off.

Once Sans is out of earshot, Grillby sighs. This was not what he expected his life to be like. How is he going to protect Sans from this? Gaster might have been horrible, yes, but that clearly isn't widespread knowledge. If people find out what Sans did, it won't end well.

He takes off his glasses, rubbing his face. One thing at a time. For now, try to prevent anyone from learning it was Sans. If that doesn’t work, well...He did once say he would burn down a city if it meant seeing the two smile.


	12. wish me luck

It's the third night in a row that Sans can't sleep when he finally decides to tell Grillby. He makes sure Papyrus is fast asleep before climbing out of bed, trying to keep his footsteps muffled. He hesitates before knocking on the door.

"Grillby?" he says, quietly, half-hoping he won't open the door. There’s the sound of shifting blankets and a light being turned on, and then a creak as Grillby opens the door.

"Is everything alright?" he asks.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course," Grillby says, stepping to the side. "Whats wrong?"

"I...You said talking makes things better sometimes, right?"

"Yes, I did. Are you having nightmares again?"

"Kinda," Sans admits. "I just...I keep thinking about...stuff. Stuff that only I know. Stuff that I don't want to know."

Grillby sits down, patting the blankets beside him. Sans curls up next to him. "I told you a little bit about...about why me and Papyrus were made, right? We were s'posed to be weapons. Or at least, I was. Papyrus was just..." 

He huffs, trying to figure out how to explain it to Grillby when he doesn't fully understand himself. Gaster never sat down and explained how Sans and Papyrus came to be. Everything that Sans comes knows is from overheard conversations, Gaster talking to himself while filling out reports, or bits of information he would offer as rewards. 

"Take as long as you need," Grillby says.

"Papyrus was made so G-Gast-" The name gets caught in his throat. He tries again. "So _he_ had a way to get me to do what he wanted. Before Papyrus I would...argue with him. Fight back. Refuse to do stuff. He'd do this thing...When he made us, he used parts of his soul. I think the plan was that we'd be like...extensions of him. We weren't supposed to... _I_ wasn't supposed to think for myself. He could do this thing where he would basically...control me. Like a - a puppet, kinda." He pauses. "I don't know if any of this is right. He never told us anything. It's all just...me guessing based on stuff I heard." He looks up at Grillby, who nods encouragingly.

"Do you want to keep going?"

"Y-yeah. So, uh, I think it was easier for him to control me when I wasn’t thinking straight. He'd always try to get me really worked up, get me mad or scared or sad. At first he'd threaten me, o-or hit me, or just yell a lot. But then that stopped working, because I stopped caring. But then he made Papyrus, and he'd threaten _him_ , and that always worked."

There's an odd look on Grillby's face. His eyebrows are scrunched up and his breathing is low and rough and his flames seem wilder, somehow.

"Grillby?"

The flames settle back down. "Sorry," he says. "I - Gaster should be glad he never had a chance to meet me. You didn't deserve any of that. Neither did Papyrus."

Sans is quiet. It still seems strange to him, the idea that he deserves anything. Grillby doesn't even know the kinds of things he's done.

"He," Sans starts, then trips over the next words. "He, uh, he made me...he made me hurt people." He shuts his eyes, rubbing at them with the palm of his hand, trying to keep his voice steady. "He made me h-hurt...m-made me..." He feels Grillby put an arm around his shoulder.

"It's okay," he says. "What did he make you do?" he asks, very gently.

"He made me hurt _Papyrus,_ " Sans chokes out before dissolving into sobs. Grillby pulls Sans against him.

“Breathe,” he reminds him. It takes a moment, but Sans is able to pull himself back together.

"I know you're gonna say it's not my fault," Sans says, voice still shaky, "but if I'd just gone along with everything he would have left him alone. But he wanted me to - I should have just gone along with it, I shouldn't have fought back...It's my fault he got hurt."

Grillby looks like he wants to say anything, but Sans can't stop himself from speaking. If he's talking, he’s not crying. "It wasn't even - he was trying to test how much he could control me, and for whatever reason I was refusing to along with it and - he made me attack him. He made me hurt him. Papyrus doesn't even remember, but I do. He got hurt and it was all because of me. It was my fault," he says desperately, before burying his face in Grillby's shoulder. 

"I've done so many bad things...I'm scared that I'm gonna do them again. G-Ga- _Gaster_ might be...gone now, but...he always said I was made to destroy things, that I was a killer and I'd never be anything else, and I'm scared he's right."

"It's not your fault, Sans. It's Gaster’s. He is the one that made you do those things. He made the choice to hurt people. Not you. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn't want to hurt anyone - you still don't. You were - and are - a child, Sans. None of this was your fault."

"'m sorry," Sans mumbles.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You aren't a killer. You're smart, and brave, and clever, and patient, and kind. Gaster was wrong about you."

"I - I still can't make myself believe that."

"You will someday. I know it’s hard. But you aren't a bad person, Sans."

For a moment, it's quiet, almost peaceful. Sans can't relax, though. He needs to tell Grillby the whole story, needs someone else to know besides him. Maybe then he'll be able to sleep.

"Do you know what a human is?" Sans asks softly.

"Yes," Grillby says.

"Ten years ago," he starts, and then stops. "A human fell down. Ga - He killed it. And I think he - he used them to make me." Grillby doesn't react, so Sans keeps talking. "And then - another human fell. But he didn't kill that one. I did. And then a couple weeks later he told me he'd made me a brother." 

Grillby makes a movement, as though he's going to say something, but Sans stops him. "Just - there was another human - he was gonna have Papyrus kill them but I realised what he was gonna do after that. He'd make another one, another person like me, like Papyrus and - I couldn't let that happen. Gaster got so mad that he couldn't even control me. And I thought - well, he's already mad, how much worse can it get? So I grabbed Papyrus and ran until I couldn't run anymore. And then we lived - no, it wasn't really living, was it? We stayed on the streets for a while, until you helped us." 

He looks down at his hands. "So, now you know the whole story. Or, most of it at least. The big parts."

"I'm sorry," Grillby says. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that. Thank you for telling me." He pauses, then adds, "I'm not going to let them hang any posters in the restaurant, and I will try to ask people not to talk about the search, but it would most likely be better for you do try and stay in the kitchen. Is that alright with you?"

Sans nods. "The kitchen is nice. Plus, I mean, someone's gotta keep Papyrus out of trouble." He smiles - it's watery and weak, but it’s a smile nonetheless. 

"Do you want to stay in here for tonight?" Grillby asks, and Sans nods again. "I'm proud of you," he says, and Sans looks up at him. "Telling me all those things was clearly very difficult. I'm proud of you for doing it."

It's a new concept to Sans - someone being proud of him, and him not feeling horrible. 

"Did you really - all the stuff you were saying earlier - do you really think I’m brave? And - and -"

"And smart and patient and clever and kind. Yes. You're not a bad person, Sans. If you were, you wouldn’t feel so bad about things." Sans looks down at his hands for a moment, considering. 

"Can you try something for me?" Grillby asks. Sans looks back up. "Repeat after me."

"Repeat after me," Sans says, a tiny smile forming.

"'I am not a bad person,'" Grillby says softly.

"I am n-not a bad person," Sans says, then again, "I am not a bad person."

"'Nothing that happened to me is my fault.'"

"Nothing that happened to me is my fault."

"'I deserve to be happy.'"

"I deserve to be happy." The smile he gives Grillby this time is wide and genuine. He repeats the words to himself a few more times, half-whispering, not even realising he's saying them out loud.

"I'm going to turn off the light now," Grillby informs him. Sans makes himself comfortable, and for the first time in a while, he falls asleep easily.


	13. its all over its all over

It's always so peaceful after closing. During the day, the restaurant is busy and loud, but at night, once Papyrus is asleep and it's just him and Grillby doing clean up, it feels like an entirely different place. They don't talk much as they clean, focused on their jobs, but it's a comfortable silence. Sans is behind the counter, contentedly lost in thought as he wipes it down.

So when someone starts pounding on the door, Sans jumps nearly a foot in the air.

Grillby opens the door to let in a fish-like monster. They’re tall, with bluish skin and short red hair, and when they smile it reveals a mouth full of sharp teeth. "Lesia," Grillby says, "shouldn't you be at home? It's almost midnight, what are you doing here?"

"We’ve got 'em," she says, grinning. "We know who killed Gaster."

Sans stops breathing.

Lesia reaches into her pocket, pulling out a tightly folded piece of paper. "I know you want nothing to do with the whole thing, but everyone comes here, Grillby. You might recognize them - "

"Go home, Lesia," Grillby says, his voice low.

But she plows on, unfolding the paper. "Dust was found, in the forest. You know those security cameras that were installed a while back for spotting humans? A few of them were still running and we managed to get footage of the killer."

She smooths out the paper and turns it toward Grillby. He doesn't look.

"And get this: the killer can shape-shift."

"Come back in the morning," he says quietly. "We can discuss this tomorrow." He goes back to cleaning, and Lesia follows him, leaning over the counter.

"At least take the - who's that?" she asks, spotting Sans behind the counter. She looks down at the paper, then back at Sans. Her eyes go wide as it hits her. "Oh my god," she says, pulling a sword from her belt, "It must have snuck in while we were talking - get behind me, Grillby, I won't let it hurt you." She takes a step around the counter, towards Sans.

"No," Sans whispers, taking a shaky step back, "No, please, I'm sorry, I - "

"Should have thought about before you killed the Royal Scientist," Lesia snarls, moving closer.

"Please," Sans says again. He keeps moving backwards, saying the same few things over and over. "I'm sorry, please, don't - I'm _sorry_ \- " He’s back up against the wall now. " _Please_ ," he repeats, falling over himself in his desperation, closing his eyes so her furious face isn't the last thing he sees. "I - "

"Step away from him," he hears Grillby say. Tentatively, he opens an eye. Grillby's standing in front of him, between him and Lesia, who's gaping at them in confused anger.

"Grillby," she says, very calmly, "what are you doing?"

"Put the sword away."

"What the hell are you trying to do? That - that _thing_ killed Gaster!" She looks at Sans. "You did, right? You killed him."

Sans looks away. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean - I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

“Did you kill him, yes or no?”

“I - Yes.”

"See? Look, Grillby, I know you don't like violence but - "

"Put the sword away," Grillby repeats. 

Lesia puts her sword away.

"I still gotta capture it," she mutters.

"No, you do not. You're going to sit down, and we’re going to talk."

“Talk about what? The fact that you’re trying to protect a murderer?”

“Lesia, please just...sit down. I’ll go get you some tea and be back in just a moment. Sans, can you come help?”

Sans follows Grillby into the kitchen. “Are you alright?” Grillby asks, filling a kettle with leaves and putting it on the stove.

“I...I don’t know,” Sans admits. “I’m - I’m really scared.”

“I’m not going to let her hurt you,” Grillby says. “No matter what happens, I promised I would protect both you and your brother, and I intend on keeping that promise.” He glances at the door. “Lesia is very...intense. But she’s not unreasonable. There's a peaceful solution to all this, I’m sure.” He takes the kettle off the stove and puts it, along with a few mugs, on a tray. “No matter what happens, I’m proud of you.”

Sans smiles, just a bit. 

“For now, though...I think it might be best if I talked to her alone. It’s very late, after all. You need sleep.”

“C-can I sleep in your room?” Sans asks nervously.

“Of course.”

Sans hugs Grillby before he turns to go back out to the restaurant. As soon as Grillby walks through the door, though, he follows him out and kneels down by the counter, listening in on their conversation.

Grillby pours the tea into a mug, passing it to Lesia, along with a bowl of sugar. Lesia glares at it.

“I’m not gonna sit here drinking tea while there's a murderer in your house,” she says. From his hiding place, Sans flinches.

“He isn - ”

“Look, Grill, I know it might be hard to deal with, but you’ve gotta face the truth. We’ve got it on video - Hell, he even admitted it earlier!” She looks at Grillby and her face softens. “I know you’ve got a soft spot for kids. I know it's hard to think someone you care about would do something like that. But protecting someone who killed somebody - that's a crime, too. You can’t live in denial forever.”

“I know what he did,” Grillby says softly. “But - ” He sighs. “Lesia, he’s ten years old. I found him and his brother eating from my dumpster.” 

“That doesn't change - ”

“Haven't you wondered why someone would kill Gaster?”

Lesia is silent.

“From what he’s told me...Gaster created him and treated him like - a toy. The night Gaster died, Sans had already...it hadn't been a good day for him. He was already scared. He’s a child, Lesia. He’s not a murderer - it was self-defense.”

“Look, regardless of all that - Gaster was the Royal Scientist. And you’re saying this...little kid was so scared of him that he had to completely annihilate him?” Lesia shakes her head. “Gaster wouldn't - he was the kind of guy that named his lab rats!”

Grillby sighs. “I don’t know how to make you believe me - to make you believe him. Why would he make up a story like that?” Grillby doesn't wait for a response. “When Sans first started living here, I bought him new bedsheets, hoping it would make him happy. Sans’ response was to ask why I was being nice to him. He wanted to know what the catch was, when I was going to stop helping and hurt him.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“I promised I would protect him. I intend to keep that promise."

"So, what, you'll let yourself get arrested in his place? Grillby, you're being ridiculous. He's just one kid - you'd seriously give up everything you worked for? _Why?_ "

"He reminds me of myself," Grillby says. "You haven't seen how far he's come since he first moved in - I'm not letting all that progress go to waste."

"All that - You can dress it up however you want, but the fact is he killed someone. There's gonna be consequences."

"I'm not going to let him get hurt again."

"I know you care about him, but...You're throwing away everything you've done. You worked so hard to get this place to where it is. And now you're just gonna throw it all away? I'm gonna have to tell the guard about him. And the next ones that come here aren't gonna be willing to sit and drink tea. They won't care about this kid’s tragic backstory. They'll assume you helped him, probably! And even if you don't spend the rest of your life in jail, you'll lose everything." Lesia pauses.

"I know," Grillby says, at the same time that Sans darts from his hiding place.

"Grillby didn't do anything," he says desperately. "It was just me. Please, if you have to punish someone, punish me, it was my fault - "

"Sans, how long have you been here?" Grillby asks.

"...The whole time," he admits. "I just - wanted to know what was happening. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Grillby says. "Just - here, come sit down." 

Sans looks back over at Lesia. "Grillby didn't do anything," he says again. "I did. I killed him. I don't - I didn't - I'm sorry," he manages to say before he starts crying. "I just - I was scared and he was - he was gonna take me back to the lab and I didn't want to go back - I'm sorry," he says again. "Please dont - I dont wanna go to jail, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_ \- " His voice breaks on the last word, but he can't stop himself from repeating it over and over. He feels Grillby's arms around him, but that only makes him cry harder. He burrows his face into the elemental’s shirt and lets himself cry.

He'd ruined everything, just like he knew he would. Just when things were getting better, when he was starting to be happy, it all comes crashing down. 

He was so tired of it. So tired of hoping and wishing and thinking that maybe this time will be different, this time it'll be okay. But he can’t give up - if not for himself, then for Papyrus and Grillby.

"Sans," he hears Grillby say. "Sans, can you hear me?"

Sans nods. At some point during his outburst, he'd shifted to blaster form, and shifting back doesn't seem worth it right now.

"Take a deep breath," Grillby instructs him. "Good. Another." After a few more breaths, Sans opens his eyes. Lesia is watching him and Grillby uncomfortably.

Right. He almost forgot she was here.

"I..." Lesia says.

"Tell the Captain of the Royal Guard to come here tomorrow. I'm putting an end to all this," Grillby says. 

"I...Okay. Yeah." Lesia swallows and turns to leave, pausing at the door. "I'm sorry," she says, and then she's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my editor highlighted the "he was the kind of guy that named his lab rats" line and commented "yeah he named them sans and papyrus"  
> its been two days since i wrote this and im STILL laughing  
> i've already got chapter 14 written so i miiight post some snippets on my blog. (http://lakesandquarries.tumblr.com/) so you should go check that out if you dont follow me.  
> also, some art i drew for this chapter!  
> http://lakesandquarries.tumblr.com/post/137235509571/some-quick-sketches-for-dm-chapter-13-top-two-are


	14. its all over in a flash

The Captain of the Royal Guard shows up early the next day. He's in armor, trademark hammer strapped to his back, but the serious look on his face makes him seem like an entirely different person. 

"Gerson," Grillby greets him. "I would say that it's nice to see you, but..."

"Likewise," Gerson says. Grillby steps to the side to let Gerson in. Lesia follows, looking almost apologetic, but she doesn’t say anything.

Sans is already at the table, holding a mug of hot chocolate. He glances up at Gerson and Lesia's entrance, then looks away.

"Hi," he says quietly, looking like he wants to dissolve into the table.

"I take it you're the kid that’s been causing all this trouble?" Gerson asks, pulling the chair away from the table and spinning it around. He rests his arms on the back of it, but there’s a tenseness to his posture.

"Y-yeah," Sans says. He keeps his eyes on the table in front of him.

Grillby takes the kettle off the stove, pouring cups of tea for both Gerson and Lesia before taking a seat next to Sans. "Perhaps introductions are in order?" he says, passing the cups to the two. Gerson raises an eyebrow.

"Name's Gerson," he says, taking a long sip. "Captain of the Royal Guard for the last twenty years. Worked with Gaster for fifteen."

It’s subtle, the way Sans' breath catches at the sound of Gaster’s name. Grillby doubts Gerson notices.

"We've already met," Lesia says, "but I'm Lesia. Royal Guard."

Sans shifts in his seat. "My name's Sans," he says, "a-and I'm really sorry."

"Lesia told me a bit of what Grillby told her," Gerson says, "but I'd like to hear your version of events. She said you mentioned something about a lab?"

Sans looks up at Gerson, then over at Grillby.

"It’s okay," Grillby says. "I can start talking, if you'd like? And then you can jump in whenever you're ready." Sans nods.

"Stop me if I say anything wrong," Grillby says, then turns to Lesia and Gerson. "Sans and Papyrus were...created by Gaster. Sans first, about ten years ago - " he glances at Sans, who nods - "then Papyrus, five years ago. They were intended to be - "

"I was supposed to be a weapon," Sans interrupts. "Papyrus was just...a way to get me to what I was told."

"Who's Papyrus?" Gerson asks.

"Sans' younger brother. He's in his room right now."

"Continue with the story," Lesia says.

"Gaster wanted to use them - or, at least, use Sans - to break the barrier."

Gerson scoffs. "There’s a reason Gaster was the Royal Scientist, and it wasn’t for his good looks. You're telling me his brilliant plan was a couple'a kids?"

"T-that’s what he said. He'd talk to himself while filling out notes."

"So what was his plan, then?"

"I...I don’t know. He never really told me anything - I'd just try to figure out what I could."

"This is getting us nowhere," Lesia interject, slamming her mug on the table. "Get to the point."

Sans flinches. "H-he did a lot of te-tests. He made me hu-hur - " He looks over at Grillby.

"He made Sans hurt things. Living things." Grillby places a hand on Sans’ shoulder. "Look, is this really necessary?"

"It’s a pretty wild claim you're making," Gerson says. "You're saying Gaster's been hiding two kids from his entire team, and the Royal Guard, and the King. And not only that, but he was planning on using these kids to break the barrier." Gerson shakes his head. "Look, kid, you're great at acting, but - I knew the man for thirty years, worked with him for half of them. And you're trying to convince me that he was secretly some kinda evil scientist?"

"I'm not - I'm not trying to do anything," Sans says. "I'm just - I don’t want Grillby to get in trouble, and I don’t wanna go to jail, and - He was gonna take me back to the lab and - I was scared. I'm still scared." He pauses, looking down at his mug. "Maybe...it'd be better if I did go. Everything I do just ends up hurting people."

It hurts Grillby, seeing Sans like this. 

"There has to be a way to fix this," Grillby says. "There has to be a way to prove that Sans is telling the truth."

Grillby is met with complete silence. After a few moments, Gerson sighs. "I know you're trying to help, Grillby, but without any concrete evidence, there's not much we can do."

Gerson and Lesia make to stand up, right as Sans looks toward them, eyes wide but filled with a tentative spark of hope.

"His notes," Sans says in a rush. "He was always taking notes. He had this bookshelf with all these big black binders, they were all labeled - I could tell you where it is."

"This is ridiculous," Lesia says.

"If you're lying, the consequences will be worse than if you just told us in the first place," Gerson says. "Describe where the folders were."

"They were in his office, um, it was by this big machine..."

"Lesia, you stay here with Grillby. Sans, will you come show me where the notes are?" His tone’s a bit gentler, but it’s clear it’s not a request.

Sans’ eyes go wide at the thought of going back to the lab. "C-can Grillby come too?"

"The only way to the lab is through Waterfall so no, he can’t."

"I've gone through Waterfall before," Grillby argues. Gerson grunts.

"Fine, if you insist. We'll have the Riverperson take us. Lesia, you come as well. Tell one of the canine unit to guard the restaurant till we get back."

They leave as soon as they can. Grillby tells Papyrus they'll be back before too long, that he and Sans just have some errands to go on. He leaves him with a stack of movies and a request to stay out of trouble.

The ride is silent and tense. Grillby stands in the middle of the raft, watching the water around him warily. It’s over soon enough, though, and then they're heading into the labs. As they near the CORE, he feels a tiny skeletal hand take his own. He glances down as Sans, who starts to pull away, embarrassed, but Grillby squeezes his hand gently.

"It’s okay," he says. "I'll be with you the whole time."

"Hurry it up," Lesia says. "Ugh, I hate Hotland." 

Gerson’s already waiting at the elevators. "Alright. Which level?" he asks, looking at Sans.

"The lowest one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've got some bonus stuff posted on my blog - primarily screencaps of the editing process (there was some great discussion about puns), plus some pics of how i plan out my fics.  
> the fic is probably going to be ending soon, but i already have a sequel planned. i'm also considering making an ask blog, so let me know if that sounds like something you'd be interested in!  
> bonus stuff with be posted at http://lakesandquarries.tumblr.com/tagged/domino-motion.


	15. i cant remember

When the elevator opens, the lab is empty.

"This isn't it," Sans says. "This isn't the right place..."

"This is the lowest floor," Gerson says. 

"But - this isn’t it. It's too bright and nice and - I'm not making it up, I _swear_ , it should be here..."

"Well what are we supposed to do then? The elevator doesn't go any lower." 

"It has to," Sans says, going back into it and searching desperately. "There's gotta be something, I know there is...maybe this is it?" There's a smaller button, hidden underneath the rest, but when Sans presses it, a panel opens. There's numbers and a tiny display that says "INSERT CODE", along with what looks like some kind of card reader.

"Well this is great," Lesia complains. "We need some kind of card and a code. Lovely."

"Maintenance would be able to get us in, I bet," Gerson says. "You stay down here, I'll go deal with this."

Sans can't stay still while they wait, pacing back and forth. Lesia leans against the wall and carefully ignores both of them. Its an uncomfortable fifteen minutes before Gerson gets back.

"Maintenance can't get it to work," he says as he gets out of the elevator. "It just kept saying 'not authorized'."

"So wha'do we do now?" Lesia asks.

"There should be stairs that lead down there as well. We'll take the staircase down and hope there isn't more codes."

Grillby takes Sans' hand before they head down the stairs. Sans holds it like a lifeline.

As they near the bottom, Lesia lets out a frustrated sigh. This door doesn't have any codes, but it does have a keyhole.

"I can break the lock," Gerson says, "just give me a moment - hey!" The last part of his sentence is directed at Lesia, who's grabbed his hammer.

"We don't have time for you to mess around with locks," she says before slamming the hammer into the door.

"That works too, I guess," Gerson says. "Not like we're in a secret hidden lab that could have anything in it." Lesia's already walking through the remains of the door, into the rest of the lab. 

"Well?" she asks. Sans hesitates a bit before finally moving, but Grillby can feel his hand shaking. They're in a long hallway, with doors lining either wall. Gerson walks up to one labelled "TEST 2".

"We'll start here," he says, opening the door. Sans freezes.

"No," he says, quietly. "Don't make me go in there, please - "

"You wanted us to look for folders, right?" Lesia asks. "We're trying to find evidence so you don’t go to jail. Come on."

"No no no," Sans says again. "Please - I - I'll go to the jail, I can't go in there - " Lesia and Gerson look at each other.

"You don't have to go in," Grillby says, ignoring the looks Lesia and Gerson are giving him. "It’s okay. You don't have to go anywhere you don't want to."

"That was - where the - " Grillby can feel his shaking get worse.

"It’s okay. You don't need to go in."

"Let's just...move on," Lesia says. "Gerson, you find anything?"

"Nothing in here," he says. "Lets keep going."

They make their way through the halls, Gerson and Lesia opening each door and checking to see if there's anything. Sans keeps his eyes on the floor.

When they find the office, Sans looks up.

"Th-that's where he k-kept them," he says. "The - the binders." When Gerson goes in, Sans follows.

It's a stark contrast to the rest. There's a thick rug on the floor, a large, antique desk covered in papers, a futon in the corner, and an enormous bookshelf filled with binders. Gerson picks up a folder from the second shelf and opens to the middle.

"S-1 was much less resistant today." he reads. Sans goes stiff. "We did more Blast testing on live targets today. I only needed to use Control once before it was willing to cooper- "

"That's enough," Grillby says, briefly letting go of Sans' hand so he can close the binder. When he turns around, Sans is staring straight ahead, breathing shallow, not moving.

"Sans?" Grillby asks quietly. Sans takes a step back, hitting the wall, and then he starts talking, words coming out in a desperate rush.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I can't do this I can't do this _I can't do this_ \- "

"Sans?" Grillby says again, leaning down ti be eye level with Sans. "It's okay, I'm right here, can you look at me?"

His eyes are wide but they keep darting around, and he's still talking, half whispering. "I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry, I can't do this, please don't make me - I'll go to jail instead _I'm sorry_ \- " Grillby places a hand on his shoulder. Sans looks at it, takes a breath, and then passes out. His body crumples against the wall.

"Grillby?" Lesia asks. "Whats going on?"

"I think he just fainted," Grillby says.

"Shit," Lesia says. Carefully, Grillby picks Sans up. 

"I'm taking him home," Grillby says.

"We need you to help," Gerson argues. 

"Sans just fainted from sheer fear."

"Look, just...It's pretty clear there's something very, very wrong here. We need to figure it out." Lesia glances at Sans guiltily. "Set him on the futon for now - it'd better for him to be able to lie down. I think."

Grillby doesn't respond.

"I fucked up, okay? I made a mistake. But if we're gonna figure out what the hell is going on here, we're gonna need help." 

"Fine," Grillby says. "Let me put him down first." He walks over to the small futon on the other side of the room, placing Sans down gently. He places a hand on the child's skull, stroking it gently.

He stays with Sans for a while, as Lesia and Gerson look at the files, letting himself relax. Sans hadn't slept much the night before, and by extension, neither had Grillby. He shuts his eyes, leaning against the wall, lets his thoughts wander, and drifts asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so Domino Motion is going to be about 2-4 more chapters! However I've already got some ideas for a sequel and potentially an ask blog.  
> Also please look at this art my friend/editor did for chapter 9 its perfect  
> http://lakesandquarries.tumblr.com/post/137461987461/capysaurus-scene-from-chapter-9-of


	16. what have i done now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so those of you who follow me on tumblr probably saw my post (http://lakesandquarries.tumblr.com/post/137641617631/fuck-okay-i-feel-bad-making-this-post-but-i-kinda) and i just wanted to say thank you again for all the feedback and support.  
> this fandom is so sweet and fantastic and i am so, so grateful to it.  
> DM will probably be about 3-4 more chapters. i have a few ideas for follow ups - either a prequel, mostly told with lab logs and gasters notes, or a sequel that deals with the bros several years later. I've also got ideas for one-shots, some long ramblings about characters, ideas for a sequel that would take place after the sequel....  
> basically, i don't think i'll be leaving the universe of Domino Motion for quite some time. If you've got something specific you'd like to see, let me know! my ask box is always open.  
> The love and support from this fandom...it fills me with determination. <3

Grillby’s woken up by a hand on his shoulder.

"Wake up," Lesia says, shaking him again.

"Did I fall asleep?" Grillby asks.

"Something like that. You've been sitting there for like an hour."

"I hadn't realised," Grillby says. "Did you find what you needed?"

"There’s some things I think you should see," she says. "Is he still...?" She gestures at Sans.

"He didn’t sleep much last night. I think he'll be out for a while."

"For what it’s worth...I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." He gets up slowly, trying not to disturb Sans. He stirs a bit in his sleep.

"Nn?" he murmurs. "What’s..."

"Everything’s fine. I'm just going to be on the other side of the room."

"Don't go," Sans mumbles. "Don't leave..."

"I'm not going anywhere," Grillby reassures him. "I'm only going to the other side of the room. I'll be right here."

"Okay," Sans says. "Promise?"

"I promise."

Sans lets his eyes fall shut. "Okay," he says, "I trust you," and then he's asleep again. Grillby watches him for a moment longer. When he turns, Lesia's smirking at him. 

"Oh, stop," Grillby says.

"It’s cute. I haven't seen you this happy since we were kids." Her smirk fades into something more genuine as she looks at the sleeping child. "You really care about him, don't you? Him and his brother."

"I do," Grillby says. "Sans...he reminds me of how I was, at his age. I was so afraid of the world...of myself. I don't want him to go through what I did."

Lesia looks down at the folder in her hands. "If it wasn't for you...Grillby, I'm pretty sure you saved his life."

Grillby doesn’t know how to respond to that, so instead he heads over to where Gerson is. The tortoise is sitting on the floor, surrounded by binders and paper.

"He okay?"

"He's asleep," Grillby says. Gerson nods.

"We've put together a timeline," Lesia says. "It's not a pretty picture. What Gaster put Sans and his brother through is just..." Lesia makes a face, her lip curling as she glares at the desk. "Grillby, they were _meant_ to escape.”

“What?”

“Gaster had this whole plan - he let Sans think he'd escaped, but he was watching him the whole time. He was so sure Sans wouldn't be able to survive outside the labs - he was gonna wait till Sans was at his weakest and swoop in and take him back. He wanted to break his spirit so he'd stop fighting back. Make him think that there was nowhere else for him to go."

Grillby can’t figure out a way to react to this. Lesia keeps going.

"When you took them in...He was gonna try and get Sans back. His notes say something about trying to control him, but that it didn’t work. The last note says he’s got an eye on him in the forest, and that he’s going to see if he can get Sans back. Gaster had been watching him the whole time he was with you - I think he had a tracker on Sans or something."

"God," is all Grillby can say. 

"The way he talks about Sans...he talks about him like he's a toy." Lesia clenches her fist. "All this time - everyone thought he was so nice and great and - all those times he'd say he was too busy to hang out after work, _this_ is what he was doing. If he wasn't already dead, I'd kill him myself."

There's a murderous look in Lesia's eyes.

"Calm down," Gerson says, not looking up. "Getting mad isn’t going to help. Grillby, did Sans ever say anything about humans?" 

"He had some...theories."

"What were those theories?"

"That he and his brother were made from them."

Gerson exhales.

"This is all so messed up," Lesia says. She glances over at Sans, sleeping peacefully. "I was pretty awful to him earlier, wasn't I?"

"You did threaten to kill him," Grillby says.

"Ugh," she groans. "God. And I kept calling him a murderer and...I really need to work on not being an asshole."

"You can apologise when he's awake," Grillby says.

"I don't know about you," Gerson says, getting up, "but I'm getting sick of sitting. Gonna go look around." Grillby and Lesia stay in the office, picking up where Gerson left off.

Grillby grabs a folder randomly. When he opens it, he's greeted by a packet of papers. "SUBJECT ONE" is written across the top. Underneath are pictures of Sans' face from various angles. He turns the page. More photos, charting Sans' growth. The one consistent thing in each photo is Sans' clothing, or lack thereof. Flipping through the packet reveals a second half, labelled "PROJECT TWO", with similar photos of Papyrus.

Grillby feels sick. He puts the papers back in the folder and puts it down carefully, like it might attack him.

"Grillby?" Lesia says. "You're, uh...The carpet’s smoking."

"I'm going to step outside for a moment," Grillby says, as calmly as he can, standing up and exiting. He nearly walks into Gerson.

"I was just about to come grab you," Gerson says. "I found something." He leads Grillby down the hall, to what looks like a cell. "I think this is where he kept them," he says quietly.

Grillby steps in. It’s dark and cold and there only kind of bedding he can see is an old, worn dog bed. The walls and floor are gray and, besides a few deep claw marks, completely featureless.

He had known Sans' life before must have been bad, but there’s a difference between knowing and seeing it for himself. He shuts his eyes, trying to keep his anger from getting to him. The idea of Sans and Papyrus growing up in this room...It hurts to think about.

"Why did you want me to see this?" Grillby asks.

"Thought it might...I dunno. Thought there might be something important in here."

"It...some things make more sense now." He steps out of the room. He can’t stop himself from thinking about what the boys' lives must have been like, in this tiny cramped room.

"We need to find a solution to all this," he says as he walks back into the office. "Some way to keep Sans from being punished. He's dealt with enough."

"We could just tell people the truth about Gaster," Lesia says. "Doubt anyone would care he was dead when they found out the kind of things he did."

"Not everyone would believe it - not without proof. We'd need to release all the files, and even then...There'd be a ton of backlash and scrutiny, with Sans and Papyrus in the center of it," Gerson says.

"Are you suggesting we lie?" Grillby asks.

"No, just...not reveal anything new." Gerson puts down the folder he's reading. "It's a complicated situation. There's a lot of factors we need to keep in mind. There's not gonna be an easy solution to all this."

"Can't we just like, say we caught who did it but they got dusted in the process?" Lesia asks.

"Camera footage, remember? It'll be suspicious if we never release the footage. People are going to want a name and a face," Gerson says.

"What if we don't lie, then? Just....don't tell the whole truth?" Lesia suggests.

"What are you suggesting?" Grillby asks. 

"Only release stuff of Sans' four-legged form. Either say it was captured but died in the process or let people search, except they'll never find anything."

"That...could work...But then Sans and Papyrus would have to hide."

"As long as they stay in one form, no one'll ever be able to tell." Lesia glances over at Sans. "There's not that many options, and this way Sans at least won't be connected to the whole thing."

Both Grillby and Gerson are silent.

"It seems unfair to force them to hide like that," Grillby says. "How are we supposed to explain it to Papyrus? This isn’t their fault."

"It’s not a perfect solution, but...does anyone have any better ideas?" Lesia asks.

"Sans should have a say in it."

"Should we wake him up, then?" Lesia asks.

"'m already awake," Sans mumbles.

"How long have you been awake?" Grillby asks softly, walking over to Sans.

"Couple of minutes. I...heard you walk in," he adds quietly, sitting up.

"I only went into the hall for a moment - I was here the whole time. Gerson had something to show me. I promised you I wouldn’t leave. I have no intentions of breaking that promise."

"I know," Sans says. "I trust you." He smiles. "So what do we do now?"

"Well...that’s up to you. There’s two ways we could go. We could tell everyone the truth about Gaster. However, people would want proof, and not everyone would believe it. There would be a lot of questions and people wanting to talk to you."

Sans shakes his head frantically. "I don’t wanna have to talk about it."

"The other option...We would hide all the things that happened, and only release images of your blaster form. No one will know it was you. But you, and Papyrus, would have to hide your abilities. You wouldn't be able to shift, except for in private."

"Do I have to decide right now?" Sans asks quietly.

"No, you don’t. We can talk about it more later." Grillby pauses and then adds, "I’m proud of you."

Sans' face goes blue at that. "Why?"

"You've been incredibly brave through all of this."

Sans doesn’t say anything, looking down at his feet, but he's smiling.

"You feeling better?" Lesia asks, leaning an arm on Grillby's shoulder, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. And for, uh, trying to kill you." She offers her hand. Sans looks at it suspiciously.

"I really am," she adds. "Gaster was a good actor, to say the least. But I believe you. I get it if you don’t trust me. But I am sorry." She starts to pull her hand away, only for Sans to reach out and take it.

"Thanks," he says, quietly.

Lesia grins. "Gerson, your turn!"

"Sorry for not believing ya, kid," Gerson says. "Gaster had us all fooled, it seems. But Grillby's right - you've been unbelievably brave through this whole thing."

"It’s okay," Sans says. There’s a tiny smile on his face. "Th-thanks. For - for apologizing. And believing me."

Grillby gets up off the futon. "Alright, let’s go home. I have no doubt Papyrus has managed to make a mess already."

Sans laughs at that.

"I'm gonna stay here," Gerson says. "Try to organise all this. I know we said I know you haven’t decided what to do just yet, but we do need to tell the King. So uh, don’t be surprised if he stops by."

"I'll stay and help," Lesia says. "I'll swing by tomorrow though. Take care."

Sans waves before taking Grillby’s hand. They walk up the stairs together.


	17. faster wider more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS LATE IM SORRY  
> i was super busy the last few days and barely had time to write, rip

The first thing Sans thinks when he gets home is, _Was there a tornado...in the house?_

There's spaghetti and sauce everywhere - on the walls, the floor, the ceiling somehow - and it takes Sans a moment to realise Papyrus is on the floor, in blaster form, covered in sauce and noodles, holding a bowl.

_"I made dinner!"_ he says happily.

"I can see that," Sans says. Grillby is silent, looking up at the sauce dripping from the ceiling.

"How did you..." he says to himself. 

"Papyrus made dinner," Sans says, laughing a bit at the sheer confusion on Grillby's face.

"It's on the _ceiling_ ," Grillby says.

Papyrus, meanwhile, has gone back to eating raw noodles, crunching happily.

"I should have known better then to leave the noodles out," Grillby says. A glob of sauce falls onto his shoulder, sizzling. Grillby sighs. Sans can't contain himself anymore, having to lean against the wall to keep himself from falling over due to laughter.

"We should probably clean this up," Grillby says after a moment. Sans nods weakly, still laughing.

_"Did I do something wrong?"_ Papyrus asks. 

"No, you didn't do anything wrong," Sans says.

Grillby nods. "You just...made a mess. But we can clean it up. I'll go get some paper towels," he says, heading into the kitchen, coming back with not just paper towels but sponges and a spray bottle and rubber gloves. "Papyrus, which form would be easier to clean in?"

Papyrus considers a sponge before shifting to two legs. "Thumbs!" he says, waving his hands at Grillby. Grillby chuckles, handing him a spray bottle and gloves, then gives Sans some sponges and towels and his own gloves.

"Do the same thing you do when cleaning the tables," he instructs. "I'll handle the ceiling. Can you two get the floor? We can work together on the walls and furniture."

Papyrus nods eagerly. 

"And when you're done, I'll run you both a bath."

Sans' eyes go wide at that. Baths are a rare treat - having so much water around is dangerous for Grillby. Beside him, Papyrus beams. 

It's quiet for a few minutes, as all three focus on cleaning. Grillby is the one to break the silence.

"There's a few things I wanted to discuss with you," he says, gently. "I wanted to know how you two would feel about being enrolled in school."

"What's a school?" Sans asks.

"It's...a place you go to to learn things. Math, reading, history...There are teachers there, and other students. The nearest school is very close by, actually. Perhaps we could stop by tomorrow?"

"Okay," Sans says. He's still a bit confused about the whole idea, but he trusts Grillby. "The learning part sounds fun."

"Papyrus, what do you think?"

"Are there gonna be people there?"

"Yes, there will be other people. There will be students, who will be the same age as you, and teachers, who will be closer to my age."

"Will they be nice?" Papyrus asks. "Can I make friends with everyone?"

"Yes," Grillby says. "I’m sure everyone will want to be your friend."

Papyrus beams at that.

"Before you start attending though, I want to teach you some things myself."

"What things?" Papyrus asks, barely paying attention to cleaning at this point. Sans keeps scrubbing the floor, trying to get a particularly stubborn bit of sauce out.

"Just the basics of math and reading. Would you be comfortable with that?"

"Yeah!" Papyrus says happily. "Then Sans and I can read _you_ bedtime stories!"

"That sounds like a great idea," Grillby says. "Sans?"

"Uh huh," he says, sitting back to look at the newly cleaned floor. "I think we're done."

Grillby turns to look. "Nicely done," he says, stepping down from the stool. "Here, this can be your first lesson - how to get stains out of fabric. It's not reading or math, but it’s an important life skill nonetheless. Sans, can I see your sponge?"

Grilly takes the sponge, dabbing at the couch. The stain comes out easily. "Can you dry it?" Grillby asks. Sans nods, patting the couch dry with a towel.

"Does that look good?" Sans asks. Grillby nods.

"Perfect. Good job, both of you."

Sans smiles bashfully, still unused to compliments. Papyrus poses.

"Alright," Grillby says, putting the step-stool away, "I'll go get the water started. Can you go check if your pajamas are clean? And change into your robes?"

"Got it," Sans says.

"Oh, and Papyrus, don't put your clothes in the usual laundry basket. I'd like to wash them separately."

Papyrus nods. "Okay!"

Sans digs out his pajamas easily, then Papyrus', before looking for his robe. Grillby had gotten them a while ago, for Sans and Papyrus to wear right before and after showering or bathing.

Papyrus has his out already - by the time Sans is ready, Papyrus is bouncing on his heels impatiently.

"You've got sauce on your face," Sans tell him. Papyrus sticks his tongue out at his brother. Sans snickers.

Grillby is sitting by the bathtub, keeping a careful eye on the water. The bathtub is filled with bubbles.

"Can you two handle things from here? I'd like to get started with dinner." 

Sans nods.

Papyrus gets into the tub the moment the door closes, leaning his head against the bubbles like a pillow. Sans wait a moment before joining him. He sinks into the water, closing his eyes and letting himself relax for the first time in days.

It’s such a stark contrast from the labs. In the labs, the only time they'd get to be clean was ice cold showers that never went longer than a minute. ( _"It’s a waste of water,"_ Gaster had said once, when Sans had asked if his could be a bit longer, just this once. _"You just get dirty again, anyways."_ He hadn’t even known that warm water was a thing until he'd escaped.)

The sudden feeling of something on his face drags Sans from his thoughts. He opens his eyes to see Papyrus covered in bubbles, and then his eyesight goes fuzzy.

"Papyrus, did you - " The taste of soap keeps him from finishing the question.

"Well, I started with your head," Papyrus explains, as Sans wipes bubbles off his face."But you wouldn’t wake up, so I had to take drastic measures."

Instead of replying, Sans picks up a handful of bubbles and plops them onto Papyrus' face.

"Ah! Betrayal! How did I not see this coming!" Papyrus cries, wiping bubbles from his face frantically. Sans dissolves into giggles.

Papyrus scowls and splashes Sans, and Sans retaliates. It becomes all-out war in seconds. It’s a brutal one, only stopped when Papyrus decides retreating underwater is the best decision.

"I win," Sans announces once Papyrus resurfaces.

"For now," Papyrus says. 

It’s not long before the water starts to get cold, and they get bored of sitting. Sans helps Papyrus get out, making sure he doesn’t slip. Papyrus dries off quickly, running off to go see if Grillby's done with dinner, but Sans takes his time.

He'd daydreamed a lot, back in the labs. Dreamed of freedom and happiness and warmth. But not even in his wildest dreams had he imagined anything like this. He changes into his pajamas and pauses before following his brother to the kitchen.

Dinner is mostly quiet. Papyrus asks Grillby more about school, but Sans isn't really paying attention. He's distracted by his thoughts. Back at the labs, Grillby had given him two options for what to do next. He's not used to having choices. The enormity of it scares him - one decision, and the entire path of his life could change.

When they're done eating, Grillby asks Papyrus if he can wash the dishes tonight, and he agrees eagerly. As soon as Papyrus is out of earshot, Grillby starts talking.

"Is something on your mind? You seemed very distracted."

"What if I make the wrong choice?" Sans starts, then backtracks. "You said I had two options. Either tell the truth or hide. What if I choose wrong?"

"There's no wrong choice," Grillby says. "Whatever you choose, I will support you. So will Papyrus."

"I don't wanna have to talk about it," Sans says, glancing over at the kitchen, "but I don't wanna make Papyrus hide. But - " he bites back a frustrated sigh. "I've managed to keep him from really knowing all the stuff that happened to us. I don't want him to learn about yet. I want him to keep being happy." He looks back at Grillby. "What's the right choice?

"I can't tell you what the right choice is, because there isn't one. Both have pros and cons. I could talk them out with you, but neither option is going to be a perfect solution."

"I don't want Papyrus to know," Sans says. "I think...I'd rather hide. But - what do we tell Papyrus?"

Grillby's quiet, so Sans keeps talking.

"We could...tell him that it's a secret. A cool secret. Because...we're too awesome for the underground to know our true powers." 

"That sounds like a good idea," Grillby says, and Sans can hear the smile in his voice. "Do you want to explain it, or would you prefer I do it?"

"I'll do it. But, we can still shift at home, right?"

Grillby nods. "We can see if there's anywhere else you two could shift - somewhere you could run around and play. I don't want you two to be cooped up in this little house all the time."

"This house isn't little," Sans says. "It's the perfect size."

Papyrus comes back in before Grillby can respond. "I'm done!" he announces.

"Perfect timing," Grillby says. "We still have time before you two need to go to bed - what would you like to do?"

"Can we build a pillow fort?"

"That sounds like a great idea," Grillby says. "But don't expect me to come inside."

An hour later, Sans is curled up in blaster form, Papyrus on top of him, blankets hung above their heads. Grillby's sitting next to them, reading. 

_I could get used to this,_ he thinks, and then he falls asleep.


	18. get it down

When Sans wakes up, he's still in the pillow fort. Papyrus is sprawled across him, tail on Sans' face, shifting slightly every few seconds. It’s not a comfortable position, but Sans can’t bring himself to move.

Then Papyrus twitches his tail and whacks Sans in the face.

Sans pushes Papyrus off of him roughly. Papyrus rolls into a heap with a muffled " _oof_ ". Sans stretches, letting out the tension that's built up in his joints while he slept. Papyrus is still asleep, somehow.

He peeks out of the fort to see Grillby on the couch, reading a book. He lowers the book when he sees Sans, and while he doesn’t smile, exactly, the way his shoulders relax and the gentle look in his eyes gives off the same feeling.

"Good morning," he says, putting his book down and scooting over to make space for Sans on the couch. "Did you sleep well?"

Sans nods, jumping up on the couch, then yawns. A quiet laugh escapes Grillby. "Is Papyrus still asleep?" Sans nods again. He opens his mouth to speak before realising he can’t, then shifts to bipedal form.

"He had his tail on my face and started whacking me with it," he says.

"That does sound unpleasant," Grillby says. "Gerson and Lesia will be stopping by in a bit," he informs Sans. "King Asgore will be with them. He may seem intimidating, but you have nothing to fear from him. He's a very old friend of mine."

"What’s he like?"

"He's very....Fatherly. Towards everyone, including people the same age and older than him."

"Fatherly?" Sans repeats.

 

"Typically, fatherly is a word used to talk about...well, someone who is a father. A father - or a dad, which is the more common word - is someone who cares for and raises children. Traditionally a father is also someone who helps bring the child into the world, though this isn’t always the case. A person who is fatherly acts like a dad towards others - treating them as their children, in a way, helping them, teaching them, caring for them."

"Kinda like you," Sans says softly, not even realising he’s said it out loud until he notices Grillby's flame go blue at the edge.

"Yes, I suppose that’s true," Grillby says. "That hadn’t really occurred to me before." He looks at Sans, getting more blue by the second. "Do you...Er, that is..."

He's never seen Grillby so flustered before. "Would it be okay? If...If I called you dad?" Sans asks. Father seems too official, too fancy, but there’s something about the sound of the word dad that he likes.

"I would be honored," Grillby says.

Sans scoots closer to him on the couch. "Okay," he says. "D-dad." And then, to Sans' horror, he bursts into tears.

Grillby puts an arm around Sans’ shoulder and Sans leans into the contact, turning his face from the elemental in embarrassment. Grillby keeps his arm around Sans, squeezing him gently.

"S-sorry," Sans says. "I shouldn’t be crying like this."

"You've had a difficult last few days. There’s nothing wrong with crying."

"Still seems dumb," Sans says, rubbing at his eyes with his palm. "Things're good, for once. I should be happy, right?"

"Sometimes people cry from happiness. Or just from stress. Whatever the cause, it’s okay to cry."

Sans doesn’t respond to that, instead burying his face in Grillby's side and letting the tears come. Grillby rubs his back soothingly.

Eventually the tears stop, and Sans sits up. 

"T-thanks," he says, looking up at Grillby, then adds on, "Dad."

Grillby goes blue again before clearing his throat. "Would you like to help make breakfast?" he asks. The doorbell rings before Sans can reply.

"That must be Asgore," Grillby says, standing up, Sans following him. A tall, furry monster is standing outside, carrying a small bouquet of yellow flowers. His cape trails onto the snow. Sans ducks behind Grillby, a bit wary and more than a little intimidated.

"Howdy," he says, revealing sharp teeth. "It's been a long time, hasn’t it?"

"It has," Grillby agrees. "Why don't you come in?"

The monster has to duck to enter the restaurant, accompanied by a soft scraping as his horns rub against the doorway. 

"You must be Sans," he says, smiling. "I am Asgore. It is nice to meet you."

Sans has to crane his neck to look up at him. "H-hi," he says, feeling very small.

"I was told you have a younger brother, as well?"

"Pa-Papyrus? He's still asleep."

"I brought some things for you both," Asgore says, opening his cape and pulling out a stuffed cat. Sans looks it over. "There’s one for Papyrus, as well."

"Thank you," Sans says quietly, unable to take his eyes off the gift.

"It was no trouble," Asgore says. "However, I did not come here just to bring gifts. Gerson told me some...troubling things. About my former Royal Scientist."

Sans looks over to Grillby. "I-I thought I didn't have to talk about it," he half-whispers.

"I understand if it is a difficult subject," Asgore says gently. "But as King, I need to know the full story. I need to understand how all this happened so I can prevent it from happening again."

"Asgore," Grillby says.

"I don’t want to force you to do anything you are uncomfortable with, Sans, but I need to know. Where there any others involved? Any other children or scientists? How much do you know about what Gast - "

"Don't say his name," Sans says. "I just - I thought this was gonna be over, I thought - " He looks at Grillby again, unable to keep the pleading tone from his voice. "Grill - Gr - _Dad_ \- You said I wouldn’t have to talk about it."

"Sans - " Grillby starts, but Asgore cuts him off.

"I don’t wish to cause you any distress, Sans, but I was frie - He worked for me for a very long time. I need to understand how I could have missed all of this, if I'm missing anything else."

"Asgore," Grillby says, voice hard and cold and firm, leaving no room for argument or interruption. "Asgore, there are others ways for you to learn what happened. Ways that do not involve questioning a traumatized child."

Sans doesn’t really know what the word traumatized means, but it sounds unpleasant. "Please don’t make me talk about it," he says, quietly. "It was just me and Papyrus and him. There wasn’t anyone else. H-he said we were a secret." He looks back at Grillby. "I don't - I thought - "

"It’s alright, Sans. You've said plenty." Grillby pauses, turning to Asgore. "There’s plenty of journals and logs you can read," Grillby says. "I know you're only trying to make sure there’s nothing you've missed, but this isn't helping anyone."

Asgore sighs.

"I do not mean any offense by my questioning. But I can see that it is not what is needed right now. I apologize for any distress I've caused." He gives Sans a gentle smile. "Alright. I had other things I wanted to discuss, as well. Have you thought about schooling?"

"We discussed it briefly last night," Grillby says. "Why do you ask?"

"Technically, neither Sans nor Papyrus are legal citizens of the Underground. They need to be citizens to be enrolled in school."

"I see," Grillby says, although Sans is completely lost. "What do we need to do to make them legal citizens?"

"Birth certificates, medical records....paperwork, mostly. I can help you with most of it, but I can't help with medical records beyond helping you find a doctor for Sans and Papyrus. I can talk to the doctor beforehand, explain their....conditions."

Sans tenses at the mention of doctors. Gaster had been a doctor, had always introduced himself as 'Dr. W. D. Gaster', had complained about how his doctorate was being wasted on Sans and Papyrus.

"Sans?" he hears Grillby ask. Sans blinks.

"Huh?" he says. Grillby kneels down.

"Tomorrow, we're going to go see a doctor. All they are going to do is check to make sure you are healthy. I'll be there the entire time, and you don't have to do anything you aren't comfortable with.. Are you okay with this plan?"

"You promise?" Sans asks. "You won't leave, even for a moment?"

"I promise."

"Okay," Sans says. Grillby nods, before standing up and turning to Asgore. 

"Thank you for all your help," he says. Asgore smiles.

"I'm always happy to be able to assist. I shall see you later, I suppose." He pauses at the door. "I know you aren’t ready to talk about it, Sans, but you will need to eventually. It’s not healthy to keep things bottled up." He looks away. "Trust me, I've tried." And with that, he leaves.

"That went...Well," Grillby says. "Sans, can you go get Papyrus? I'll get breakfast started. Does an omelette sound good?"

"Yeah," he says, already heading toward the living room. When he opens the door, he finds that the pillow fort has turned into a pillow lump.

"Papyrus?"

"Heeeelp," Papyrus whines, muffled by the blankets. "'m stuck."

"Where are you?"

A hand sticks out from under the blankets. Sans grabs it and pulls, revealing a very rumpled Papyrus.

"Freedom!" he cries, standing up. 

"What even happened?"

"Uh...I don’t know. I think I nudged a pillow and it kinda...." He tends his fingers together before pushing down. "Fwump."

"Fwump," Sans repeats with a giggle.

"Fwump," Papyrus agrees. He looks back at the remains of the fort and sighs dramatically. "It was such a good fort, too..."

"We can make another one. C'mon, Dad - Grillby's making breakfast. We can go help." He grabs Papyrus' arm, pulling him along.

"What's a dad?" Papyrus asks, digging his feet into the floor.

"It's a...person who does stuff for you. Takes care of you and teaches you stuff and helps you with things."

"So like Grillby," Papyrus says.

"Exactly." Sans grins at his brother, before dragging him into the kitchen.

"I take it you want to help?" Grillby says, not looking away from the food. 

"I wanna help!" Papyrus says. 

"You can crack the eggs. But don't smash them this time. Do you remember the way I showed you?"

"Yeah, Dad," Papyrus says, and Sans can't help but laugh at the way Grillby freezes. Papyrus doesn't seem to notice, taking an egg and gently tapping it against the counter before holding it up to Grillby. "Like this, right?"

"Exactly," Grillby says. "Do you remember what to do next?" 

Papyrus very carefully pulls the egg open, pouring the inside into a bowl. "Did I do it right?"

"You did it perfectly," Grillby says. "Good job. Do you want to do the rest?"

Papyrus nods and starts working on the next few eggs. Sans is content to watch. 

The idea of going to see a doctor still has him a little worried, but seeing the way Papyrus grins at Grillby and the way Grillby looks back, letting his mouth show for just a brief second….If he has them with him, he can handle anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry how late this is.   
> someone i went to school with died recently and, well, i'm not good at dealing with news like that. i'm also im the midst of trying to get a job. so life is very busy and i dont have as much time to write as i'd like,  
> im changing the update schedule to monday and friday, which should hopefully make things easier.   
> hopefully the cuteness in this chapter should make up for how late it is! we shall return to the angst next chapter. :3c


	19. take me over

The next few days are a blur of paperwork and phone calls. The doctor’s visit ends up getting pushed back a few days, giving Grillby the chance to talk to her first. Lesia offers to babysit while he goes to meet with the doctor, and he agrees, though he insists that Lesia not let Papyrus in the kitchen.

It's nearing afternoon by the time Grillby leaves. The boys seem comfortable, arguing over what movie to watch and who gets which stuffed animal, Lesia eating a bowl of popcorn while watching them. Still, he finds himself hesitating.

"I'll text you if anything happens," Lesia says. "But I'm sure they'll be fine. C'mon, you've met my niece. I can handle her, can't I? It'll be fine."

She has a point. Lesia's niece, Undyne, is loud, hyperactive, and destructive. If Lesia can handle her, surely she can handle Sans and Papyrus.

"Text me every hour," he says. "Just to be sure." 

"You got it," Lesia says, grinning. "But you worry too much."

"Probably," Grillby agrees, and then he leaves.

The doctor lives in Waterfall, so Grillby gets a ride from the Riverperson. From there it's only a short walk. Asgore had given him directions, and it's not long before he finds himself knocking on the door of a small house.

A very short orange lizard opens the door. "You must be Grillby," she says, adjusting her glasses. "I'm Cianna. Nice to meet you." She smiles and holds out a hand. Grillby shakes it.

"Likewise," he says. "How much did Asgore tell you?"

"He just said that he needed me to check over two kids - Sans and Papyrus are their names, right? - and that you'd explain things to me. That there was something, uh, different about them?" She hesitates. "He didn't tell me much. Here, uh, why don't you come in?" She opens the door, stepping to the side so Grillby can enter. "I was just getting myself some tea, so go ahead and get comfortable." She waves a hand to the couch. "Or, wait, let me clean it up a bit," she says, picking up papers and moving them to the table. "D'you want any tea?"

"I'm fine," Grillby says, sitting down. "But thank you."

Cianna disappears into the kitchen. There's faint sounds of tea being made before she reappears, mug in hand. "Alright," she says, taking a seat. "So, what's so special about these kids that you need to come talk to me about them?"

"There's a number of factors," Grillby says, trying to figure out how to explain it all. "For one thing, they're both shapeshifters."

"Shapeshifters?" Cianna repeats, tone disbelieving. 

"They have two forms. In one form, they are bipedal skeletons. They are very humanoid in shape. In the other, they are more...cat-like, I suppose. They're still skeletons, but they walk on all fours and can't speak. They refer to it as their blaster form. Shifting seems to be mostly voluntary."

Cianna's eyes are wide. The mug is in her hand, as though she's about to take a sip, but she seems completely absorbed in Grillby's words.

"Fascinating," she says, putting the mug down. "I've never heard of any monsters like that. Are they...Asgore made it sound as though they were your children, but you're a fire elemental, not a skeleton...Unless...but that still wouldn't explain the shape shifting...Are they related to you?"

"No, they are not. I found them a while ago and took them in."

"I've never heard of a monster that could shapeshift like that," Cianna continues. "Do you know where they came from? Who their parents are? Er, biological parents, that is."

"I was about to get to that," Grillby says. "They were...They don't have parents, not in the traditional sense."

"I'm afraid I don't follow," Cianna says.

"They were - created. In a lab." Grillby sighs, leaning back. "Technically, I'm not supposed to share this information, but you need to know it to be able to treat them. The former Royal Scientist made them, in his lab."

"Former - you mean Gaster?" She looks at her tea again. "Wait. He died. There was - video of the person who killed him. Blaster forms, you said they called their bipedal forms? Bipedal, cat-like forms?"

Grillby takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yes." He'd been hoping she wouldn't put the pieces together, but anyone with even the smallest bits of story could figure it out.

Cianna frowns. "Why would Asgore not tell me that? Or - does he not know? He must not, otherwise..."

"Asgore is aware. It's a long story."

"If I'm to be their doctor, I need to know."

Grillby rubs his face, leaning forward. "To start off, how well did you know Gaster?"

"Er - not that well, I guess. I was still studying to be a therapist when he was in med school, so by the time I switched over he'd graduated. But I had some mutual friends with him. He seemed like a decent enough guy. What does this have to do with anything?"

"Gaster was not the man people thought he was. He was - There aren't words for what he was. The video may not seem like it, but his death was self-defense."

Cianna sips her tea. "I - alright. Just - let me get this straight. So, Gaster made these two kids - _shapeshifting_ kids - and, what, tortured them?" She lets out a nervous laugh.

"Yes."

The laughter dies.

"Sans and Papyrus both have a lot of trauma because of him. They grew up in the labs, and had to do a lot of testing and experiments. I imagine some of the tests they did back there will be tests that you'll need to do."

"That's why Asgore asked me," Cianna says slowly. "I was training to be a therapist before I decided to be a doctor, and from what you're saying, it sounds like these two have some....issues." She puts the mug down again. "This is going to be difficult."

Grillby is silent, trying to gauge her reaction.

"I mean, I can try and explain everything that I'm doing, but...I wish I knew what kind of tests he did, because then I could just not do any of those. But, then again, I imagine he did all the kinds of basic tests involved in a check up." She sighs. "I'll do my best. Bring some toys with them, when you come. Prepare them beforehand, maybe plan some kind of reward afterwards. There's not really an easy way to deal with all this, but those should help. And I'll do my best to keep them from freaking out."

"Thank you," Grillby says.

"Thank you for coming by beforehand. It makes things a bit easier." She smiles at him. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"I'll see you tomorrow. Have a nice night."

"You too."

\----

When Grillby gets home, the place is somehow in one piece. It's gotten dark out, and Sans and Papyrus are sat in the living room, playing with legos.

"How were they?" Grillby asks Lesia, sitting down next to her on the couch.

"Fine. We watched a movie, then they got out their toys and have been building some giant thing. I think they said it was a boat?"

"It's a magic boat!" Papyrus interrupts. "It's got a wheel in the back and it's fueled by hopes and dreams."

No one can ever say the boys aren't creative. "Sounds very magical," Grillby says. "Did you have fun with Lesia today?"

"Uh huh! Can she come over again?"

"We'll see," Grillby says. "Sans, what about you?"

"Yeah," Sans agrees. "I liked the movie."

Lesia gets up off the couch, noogying Papyrus affectionately. "Well, I gotta get going. Maybe next time I'll bring Undyne. Bet you her and Papyrus would get along great."

Now that's a terrifying idea. "I'll consider it," Grillby says. 

Lesia gives him a sharp grin, gives Sans a very gentle punch in the arm, and noogies Papyrus again before leaving. There's a few peaceful minutes where the boys continue their building. Grillby watches them from the couch.

"You went to visit the doctor, right?" Sans asks, glancing over.

"Yes. I went to go talk with her about your visit tomorrow." He pauses. "Dr. Cianna is very kind. She's going to do her best to make sure you're both healthy, but to do that, she's going to need to run tests."

"But - they won't be like the ones he used to do, right?" Sans asks.

"There might be some that are similar, but Dr. Cianna only wants to make sure you're healthy. If anything makes you uncomfortable, just tell her, or me, and she'll stop. The intent of this visit is to help."

"You promise she won't hurt us?"

"I promise."

Sans nods and goes back to building. Grillby watches the two play, trying to keep track of the increasingly complicated story Papyrus is telling. Eventually the two start yawning.

"Alright, it's bed time," Grillby announces. Papyrus pouts.

"But the princess was just about to meet her true love," he complains.

"You can continue to story tomorrow. In fact - Why don't we go to the toy store, after we visit the doctor? As a treat."

It's incredible how fast Papyrus can go from pouting to beaming. 

"For now, though, you two need sleep."

He watches the boys pack up their toys and get ready for bed. He's got a good feeling about tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I'm switching updates to friday only. my life is very busy lately and sadly i dont have as much time to write.
> 
> Also, unrelated, but please message tumblr user sansofaces the word "chairiel". nothing else. just that word. thank you in advance


	20. Twenty

Grilly, Sans, and Papyrus arrive ten minutes early to the doctor's appointment, armed with plushies and puzzles and promises of going to the toy store afterwards. Both boys seem a bit on edge. Sans is holding his stuffed bear a bit too tight, Papyrus is taking longer than usual to solve his Rubik's cube, but so far they're doing well. It's only been seven minutes when Cianna peeks into the waiting room.

"Grillby?" she says.

Grillby stands up, waving at her. Cianna smiles nervously. 

"I figured you wouldn’t want to have to deal with nurses," she says, leading them to the examination room, "so it'll just be me doing everything. Sit down wherever you want," she adds. Neither Sans nor Papyrus sit on the exam table. Sans takes a chair for himself, while Papyrus chooses to sit in Grillby's lap.

"Oh, I should formally introduce myself, shouldn’t I?" Cianna says. "I'm Dr. Cianna. Which one of you is Papyrus and which one is Sans?"

"I'm Papyrus!" Papyrus yells at the same time Sans says, "I'm Sans."

Cianna laughs. "Alright, well, the first thing I need to do is get your heights and weights. Who wants to go first?"

"Me," Sans says quickly. Cianna nods.

"Ok. Can you take off your shoes and stand over here?" she asks, gesturing at a measuring tape on the wall. "Yeah, right there. Okay, feet flat on the ground, please...There we go. Okay, now can you move away?" She smiles at Sans. "You're four feet, five inches. Little short for someone your age, but there’s nothing wrong with that." She winks at Sans, who smiles despite himself.

"Okay, the next thing we need to do is measure your weight. The scale is right over there," Cianna says. Sans doesn’t walk over to the scale straight away, though. Instead he takes off his hoodie, then moves as though he's going to take off his shirt.

"Woah, uh, hold on a second," Cianna says. "You can, uh, keep your clothes on."

In an instant Sans goes from calm to nervous. "Did I do something wrong?" he asks, holding his hoodie against himself like a security blanket. "Th-that was what...."

Grillby finishes the sentence mentally. _That was what Gaster made us do._ "You're doing fine," Grillby says. "You didn’t do anything wrong."

Cianna nods. "But, uh, you can keep your clothes on. It won't really change how much the scale says."

Sans seems embarrassed, but he pulls his hoodie back on and steps onto the scale. 

"Twenty-four pounds," Cianna says before looking over at Papyrus. "Your turn," she says brightly. Papyrus has a bit of difficulty getting his height measured - he keeps going on tip-toes, wanting to be as tall as possible. Cianna ends up bribing him with a sticker.

The next few things go well. Cianna checks their heart beats and joint movement and reflexes and other small things, and gradually the boys relax. 

"Ok, the next thing I'm gonna do is check your stats." She holds up a small plastic box, with a dial on the front and a switch on the side. "This little guy - it's called a Monster Attribute Analyzer, or MAA for short - attaches to your upper arm and tells me the different ratios of magic you have. It might pinch a little at first, but it only takes five minutes."

Sans rubs his arm. "Back in - Before - I've seen those before."

"We don't have to use it if you're not comfortable. There's other ways to check stats."

"It's fine," Sans says quickly. "Sh-should I....Um...."

"Just roll up your sleeve," Cianna says. Sans looks at the wall and slowly pulls his sleeve up.

His arm is covered in marks and scars, small spots where it looks like the bone was chipped or scraped, pockmarks Grillby suspects are from needles, ghosts of long ago breaks.

The worst thing, though, is that the words "Property of W. D. Gaster" are printed on his arm. Or, no, not printed - engraved.

Sans is still keeping his gaze on the wall. Cianna, to her credit, pretends not to notice the words, attaching the device to him and flipping the small switch. Sans sucks in a breath.

"Everything okay?" Cianna asks quickly. Sans turns his gaze back to her.

"F-fine," Sans says. "It's just - memories. And it kinda pinches."

"It'll be done soon," Cianna says. "You've been doing really well so far. Tell me if anything starts to feel uncomfortable, okay?" Sans nods, and Cianna smiles at him. "Do you know how these things work?" she asks.

"Not really," Sans admits.

"I'll explain it to you." She taps the dial on the front. "Depending on the setting, it sends different magical pulses through your body. Each is calibrated to measure a certain attribute. The initial pinch isn't due to anything physical, it's the device activating your magic for you. From there it can determine your stats. Once it's done with the first part, it switches itself over the next, and when it's done it'll beep."

Sans looks at the little thing. "It's so _tiny_ ," he says. 

"Hey, nothing wrong with being tiny. Doesn't mean it can't do its job." She smiles at Sans. "Personally, I find the smaller ones work better."

"You're biased," Papyrus says, looking up from his Rubik's cube at Cianna. "You're tiny." 

"So're you. You're shorter than me," Sans says. 

"Yeah, but Dr. Cianna said I'm tall for my age and you're short for your age, so technically I'm not tiny."

Sans huffs. "Yeah, well, even if you get taller I'll still be the big brother 'cause I'm older."

Papyrus sticks out his tongue.

"Are they always like this?" Cianna asks Grillby softly, watching the two bicker. 

"Always. They like to argue about the most trivial things possible."

"Kids," Cianna says.

"Kids," Grillby agrees.

It's not long before a soft beeping interrupts Sans and Papyrus. Cianna carefully detaches the MAA before plugging it into her computer. 

"It'll upload the information onto my computer. After that, it's Papyrus' turn, and then you guys are done for the day."

"And then toys!" Papyrus says eagerly.

Sans already has his hoodie back on, looking much less tense with his arms covered. Cianna unplugs the MAA before asking Papyrus to roll up his sleeve. His arm has some holes as well and the same disturbing engraving, but he doesn't seem to pay any mind to these as Cianna attaches it. 

When she turns it on, though, he makes a sound like a frightened animal, before stumbling back and collapsing into a chair. He shuts his eyes.

"Papyrus?" Sans says.

Papyrus releases a shaky breath.

"Pap?" Sans asks again. "Everything okay?"

"Nn," Papyrus says.

"Pap, what's wrong?" Sans asks, taking a step towards his brother. Papyrus flinches. Sans' expression flickers from worry to betrayed before settling on concern. He looks over to Grillby helplessly. 

"Papyrus, are you alright?" Grillby asks, gently. Sans inches closer. Cianna stands by awkwardly, glancing over at Grillby every few seconds as if asking what to do.

Slowly, Papyrus' breathing goes back to normal, and after a long wait, he opens his eyes, looking around the room like it's the first time he's seen it. 

"Oh," is all he says.

"What was....what was that about?" Sans asks, trying to sound casual. 

"I - I thought I was - somewhere else."

"Oh," Sans says. "Well - you're not. You're, uh, right here, and everything's fine. Right?" he asks, looking at Grillby.

"Right," Grillby confirms.

"Can I," Papyrus starts, before abandoning the sentence in favour of climbing over the arms of the chair to sit back in Grillby's lap. Cianna stifles a laugh, but then she insists that Papyrus let her check his heart rate and breathing, to make sure he wasn't having some kind of reaction to the MAA. When she's satisfied he's okay, she sits back down in her own chair.

Papyrus recovers from his episode (Panic attack? Flashback? Grillby's not entire sure what to call it) quickly, returning to working on his Rubik's cube and idle bickering. It's only a few minutes before the device starts beeping, and Cianna does the same thing she'd done earlier. She prints out a few papers and looks over at Grillby.

"Can you guys wait here a second? I need to talk to Grillby about, uh, some paperwork stuff. Boring adult things. Just sit tight for a moment." She gives Grillby a significant look before stepping out of the exam room. 

"I'll be right back," Grillby promises. Papyrus gives a dramatic sigh before moving off of Grillby.

Cianna is waiting in the hall for him, but she doesn't stay there to talk, instead pulling him into the adjacent room and shutting the door.

"There was something weird about the results. According to this," Cianna says, shifting her papers, "Sans only has one HP."

"That's not possible," Grillby says. "He would - a monster couldn't survive with just one HP."

"Not only that, but he's got a kind of magic I've never seen before. Papyrus' stats are pretty straightforward - 20 HP, good attack and defense, traces of both varieties of blue magic - but Sans' stats are all over the place. They don't make sense. His max HP is one, his attack is both incredibly powerful and incredibly weak, but he has the highest defense I've ever seen."

"What should we do?"

"Ask him?"

"That seems....I think it'd be best if I asked him at home. I can email you what he tells me. Is that alright?"

"That should work," Cianna says. "Here, let me give you the papers - and my email." She scribbles it down on the topmost paper before handing the stack to him.

"Thank you," Grillby says. He lingers in the room a moment longer, while Cianna returns to where the boys are. He can barely make sense of the papers.

Now's not the time, he tells himself. He can talk to Sans about it later. For now he folds them up and puts them in his pocket.

In the exam room, Sans and Papyrus have gone back to idle arguing. Grillby can hear them before he even opens the door, and it sounds like something about Sans' height. Papyrus is saying Sans’ lack of height is because he doesn't drink enough milk; Sans is saying he's short because Papyrus is stealing his height.

"That's not possible!" Papyrus shouts as Grillby opens the door. "Dr. Cianna, tell Sans that's not possible!"

"It's very possible," Cianna tells Papyrus in the most serious tone she can manage. "It's why I'm so short. My sister stole all the height." She clicks her tongue and hangs her head, and Grillby has a feeling it's because she can't keep herself from smiling.

"Aaagh!" Papyrus whines.

"Sounds like your brother has a short temper," Cianna stage whispers to Sans.

Papyrus screams.

Grillby takes that as a cue to get going. As he leads to boys out of the office, to the Riverperson, his thoughts keep looping back to the papers in his pocket. 

One HP, Cianna had said. He hadn't know that was possible - to be honest he wasn't sure he could really accept it as being true. Then again, Sans had surprised him before.

He desperately wants to sit Sans down and ask him how and why he only had one HP, but he'd promised the boys new toys. And Sans looks so happy running around the toy store. He looks like any other excited child, right now, and Grillby can't risk ruining that.

He'll ask him tomorrow. Right now, Sans is holding a toy spaceship and Papyrus has a box of puzzles and they're both beaming. Grillby had never planned on having kids, but standing in line at the toy store, listening to the two bicker about god-knows-what, he knows there's nowhere he'd rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the slight hiatus. Updates are gonna be weekly, but I'm not sure on what days. 
> 
> Shout out to Mykenzie for asking for Papyrus angst :3c


	21. Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for this chapter: self harm, discussion of child abuse, this is a heavy chapter.

It's early morning when Sans wakes up, shaking and sweaty, and for a moment he's still in that tiny room before reality sets in. He sits up, yawning, and tries to blink the sleep away. When his eyes finally clear, he looks at the clock.

2:12 AM. He's only been asleep four hours. He groans, tries to go back to sleep, nightmare already fading from his mind, but when he closes his eyes he's back _there_ , and after a few minutes of this he gives up and gets out of bed. He doesn't bother with turning on any lights, instead using the gentle blue glow of his eye as a flashlight.

Grillby's door is slightly ajar, and Sans doesn't knock as he slips in. He approaches the bed, about to climb up when something on the night stand catches his eye.

There's a stack of papers. Grillby's been giving Sans and Papyrus reading lessons, but he can barely make out a single word on the papers. The fact that he can't read them doesn't matter, though. He'd recognize that chart anywhere. It's the same as it was in the lab, charting out all the important stats, his strength and magic ability and his HP.

He looks over the chart, in the hopes that maybe it's different now, but even with his limited reading skill he can recognize the words "1 HP" on the chart.

Sans backs out of the room as quietly as he can before dashing into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He slides to the floor, slumping against the wall.

Grillby knows. He knows about Sans' messed up HP and it's not a stretch to think he knows about Sans' weird broken magic. He tries to remind himself to breathe - he knew this would happen eventually, he knows Grillby isn't going to be mad or throw him out or anything - but he can't push down the rising panic.

 _Calm down,_ he tells himself. _Everythings fine, you're overreacting, just go back in and talk to him or go back to sleep or do anything besides sit in the bathroom. There's no reason to be freaking out like this._

The panic gets worse. 

He pulls his knees in close, hugging himself like it'll help. His fingers dig into his shirt, and he can feel every scratch and bump on his bones through the thin material. He rubs his arms, hoping the feeling will break him out of his thoughts, but then his fingertips catch on the engraving and for a moment he feels like he's going to be sick.

Cianna had done a good job of pretending she hadn't noticed it, but he'd felt her tense as he pulled his sleeve up, seen the way she carefully avoided looking at it. He pulls his sleeve up, gently placing his fingers over the engraving, recoiling almost immediately.

He still remembers every second of the process, restrained to the table while _he_ (he still can't say the name, not even in his head, it's so _pathetic_ ) had taken his thinnest blades and carved into his bones. He still remembers how he'd screamed and pleaded and how _he_ had looked at Sans like a piece of malfunctioning lab equipment and informed him that if he didn't stop screaming then he would be forced to use drastic measures.

Sans shakes his head, fingers digging deeper into his shoulder, trying to pull himself from his thoughts. When that doesn't work, he pulls his hand away, only to find it wet and sticky with blood. He inhales sharply, exhales through his teeth, doesn't move to do anything about the blood or his arm.

Something about the pain feels right. And it gives him an idea.

He stops thinking about what he's doing, digging through drawers until he finds what he's looking for. A metal nail file, shiny and sharp, and before he can reconsider he's sawing at his arm, at the words etched into him.

It hurts, hurts like when his arm was first carved into, but he's had worse pain by now. He grabs a towel, bites down on it to make sure he doesn't scream and keeps scraping, watching as bone turns to powder. His head feels faraway, distant, time blurring together. He's not sure how long it's been when he hears a knock on the door.

"Sans?" he hears Grillby say, and all at once it hits Sans what he's doing. He's sitting on the floor of the bathroom at some ridiculous hour, sawing into his arm with a nail file.

He flings the file away from him, wincing at the sound of it hitting the wall, and looks at his arm. The best way to describe would be to say that there's a dent in it, covered in powder, and when he brushes it away it's to find the same word staring back at him. He's barely even scratched the ink that made them stand out so much. If anything, he's made it look more obvious.

"Sans?" Grillby asks again.

"D-don't come in," Sans says, trying to clear away the evidence of what he'd been doing. He rolls down his sleeve, but the feeling of fabric on the raw part of his bones is worse than the scraping itself.

"Is everything okay in there?" Grillby asks, and Sans bites back a bitter reply.

"I'm fine," he says, the shaking in his voice making it clear he's lying. "I'm _fine,_ " he repeats.

"Can I come in?" Grillby asks.

"No!" Sans shouts, then flinches from his own words. "I mean - uh - no. Don't come in, everything's fine, e-everything's..." His voice catches, turning the last few words into a garbled, teary mess. He's crying, but he can't bring himself to do anything about it.

"Sans," Grillby says softly. "I can tell you aren't okay. Please let me help."

There's so much powder everywhere, in between his joints and the tiles in the floor and now that he isn't manically sawing at his arm the pain is starting to catch up with him.

"I - I -" Sans tries.

"I'm not going to be mad. I promise. I just want to help."

Hands shaking, Sans unlocks the door. He tries to cover up the deep gash in his arm, leaning back against the wall, angling himself so Grillby won't see it.

"You can come in," he says quietly. The door's open before Sans can even finish speaking and then Grillby is kneeling by him, concern clear on his face and Sans doesn't stop to think. He lunges forward, burying his face in the fire monsters shirt, and _sobs._

"I did s-something really s-stupid," he says between sobs. 

"It's okay," Grillby says, rubbing his back gently.

"It's _not_ ," Sans all but wails. "I just - I don't know what I was thinking and - and - " 

"Breathe," Grillby reminds him. Sans take a deep, shuddering breath, pulling away from Grillby, putting his hand back over his arm. "Start at the beginning. What happened?"

"I...had a nightmare. And I went to your room. And I saw you had papers, about my - my HP. And I kinda...freaked out. I went into the bathroom to try and calm down but I was getting more and more anxious and I just - I got this stupid idea to try to, uh, get rid of the...thing on my arm." He spreads his fingers, moves the hand away slowly. Grillby's eyes go wide.

"Oh, _Sans,_ " he breathes. 

"I'm sorry," Sans says, turning his gaze to the floor.

"No, you don't need to be sorry. It's not your fau-"

"It is my fault! No one made me use a _nail file_ to try and _saw open_ my arm - You can't say it's not my fault, because it is."

"You were scared, and panicking, and not thinking rationally," Grillby counters. "But that’s not important right now. We need to take you back to Dr. Cianna, make sure this doesn't become infected. Although we should probably clean it, first." Grillby stands up and starts looking through the drawers.

The pain has more than caught up with him, now. He glances at his arm to find that it's bleeding. His head still feels distant and fuzzy, and it takes him a moment to realise what Grillby's said.

"Don't - there's something I haven't told you," he says, directing his gaze back to the floor. "My blood's like, pure magic, right? And my magic is, uh, kinda unstable. S-so it might...hurt you." 

"I'm sure I can handle it," Grillby says.

"No, you don't understand," Sans says, looking up. "It's...it's bad, a-and dangerous, and - " he can't keep his gaze still, eyes darting all over the room, looking at anything but grillby. "It's why I have one HP," he says. "It was this idea he had - I mean, he never actually explained it to me, but - basically the idea was that I'd be able to poison people? Like, my attacks would slowly drain people's HP. He wanted it to be able to drain them to zero, but he couldn't get that to work, so he figured getting it down to one would work." The words tumble out of him. He knows if he doesn't talk about it now, he'll never be able to bring himself to.

"It worked, mostly, but I guess he must of messed up somewhere, 'cause it affects me too. The - the poisoning thing. I think it has to do with the fact that monsters are made of magic, so poisoning my magic poisons me too. I think. But I think if you touch it it'll hurt you."

He can't bring himself to look at Grillby, knows he must be confused and shocked, no matter how he tries to hide it. He should be. He should be disgusted and horrified and maybe now he'll finally come to his senses and realise Sans is dangerous and he should have never helped him in the first place.

Instead there's a gentle hand on his arm, the uninjured one, and that just makes Sans cry harder. He leans into the touch, tries to get his breathing under control. Between desperate gasps for air he manages to speak. 

"I don't _get it,_ " he says. "I keep messing up and you keep telling me its okay but it's not. I'm still having nightmares and I'm still scared all the time and I still - " he breaks off, not wanting to say the next few words. "I still murdered someone. You can say he deserved it or that I wasn't thinking clearly or whatever but - I could've let him live. I didn't have to kill him, and I did it anyway, a-and - and - " his words dissolve into sobs, and he collapses into Grillby's arms. 

He doesn't try to speak for a minute, trying to get his breathing under control. When he does speak it's little more than a whisper.

"I don't get why you keep being so nice to me, when I'm - I'm bad and dangerous and a murderer - "

"Sans," Grillby says, and Sans cuts him off.

" - and you can't argue that it's not true because it _is._ " Grillby is quiet. Part of Sans is glad - he's finally listening to him, finally realising his mistake - but the rest of him just feels empty. There's a long pause before Grillby speaks.

"I won't argue that it's not true," Grillby says. "Instead I will state that it's not true. You are not a bad person, Sans. The good things you've done far outweigh the bad."

"Before I - he told me that I didn't belong here, that no one would ever actually w-want me around, that I was a killer and that it's all I'll ever be and - and he was right. Every time I think things are getting better I have another nightmare and I'm back to being scared all the time. Every time I start feeling okay about myself I remember all the stuff I did and - he was _scared_. I'd never seen him look scared of anything, but he was scared of me and I was _glad._ "

The next part he whispers, too ashamed to say it any louder. "I used to think what he did was normal, that the way he treated me was okay, and even when I realised it wasn't there was some part of me that wanted nothing more than his approval. Sometimes I...I think I miss him. He was nice, at one point. Kinda. And then one day he just stopped and I guess I still wonder if - if maybe I did something to make him treat me that way. Maybe if I'd been better he wouldn't have been so mean."

"There's nothing you could do to justify the way he treated you," Grillby says. Sans doesn't reply, looking away at the wall. "Sans," Grillby says, "I mean it. None of it was your fault."

"How do you know?"

"Because you were a child. You still are. And because the way he treated you was unreasonably cruel. You didn't do anything to deserve it. You did not deserve the way he treated you. Do you understand?"

Sans nods, the hundreds of replies he has ready - _if I didn't deserve that why do I deserve this_ and _why are you so nice I'm dangerous_ and _I still killed him and I can't tell if I regret it_ dying unspoken.

"I'm sorry," is all he says. 

"It's okay," Grillby says. "I'm going to go call Cianna, so we can make sure you don't get an infection. Do you want me to help you clean up or would you rather do it yourself?"

"Myself," Sans replies. Grillby helps him stand up before leaving the bathroom. As he cleans he can hear Grillby's voice, talking to Cianna, but he can’t make out the words.

The words don't really matter, though. Hearing his voice makes Sans feel safer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo apparently its fluff week over at the baby blasters blog....whoops.
> 
> In my defense I finished this several days ago, and was simply unable to post it due to being on mobile. I'm staying at my best friend's house for the week and borrowed her computer to post this.
> 
> I'll try to write up something fluffy, too.


	22. Twenty-Two

Sans wakes up in Grillby's room, and for a few blissful moments he doesn't remember last night. Then he sits up and sees the makeshift bandage on his arm and it all comes rushing back.

He'd been so _stupid_ last night, so impulsive and reckless and ridiculous.

A knock on the door breaks him from his thoughts. "Sans?" Grillby asks.

"Yeah?"

Grillby opens the door, walks in, but doesn’t sit down.

"I wanted to talk," Grillby says. "You aren't in trouble, I just wanted to make sure you're okay. And, if you're okay with it, talk about all the things that've happened recently."

Sans knows what he means. He wants to talk about That Day, about waking up with ice in his bones and blood on his fingers, about rage and fear coalescing into a beam of light and pain, about white snow and gray dust and the empty pit in his chest growing heavy and how it still hasn't gone away. 

The answer must be obvious, because Grillby adds, "I won't make you if you don't want to. But I think it might help."

Sans' fists clench around the blanket. "I don't know," he says, looking down. To tell the truth, he doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want to _think_ about it, would rather push down every thought and memory and feeling about it.

"Can't we just - pretend it never happened?"

Grillby sits down on the bed, close to Sans but with a few inches between - enough for Sans to back away if he needs to or move closer if he wants. 

"I know it seems like it would be easier to just ignore it, but it's not good for you. It'll only end up hurting you more. It doesn't have to be today, just...try to think about it." Grillby starts to move, but Sans reaches out and takes his hand before he can stand. 

"Wait," he says, before pulling his hand away. "P-please. I'm - I'll - Please don't leave."

Grillby settles back on the bed next to Sans. "It's okay. I can stay if you want me to, even if you don't want to talk."

"I do wanna talk," Sans says, leaning his head onto Grillby's arm. "I'm just not sure where to start." He stares at his hands, trying to put into words that confusing balance of _powerful_ and _powerless_ he's felt since then.

"If you don't know where to start, maybe...There were some things you mentioned last night about G - about him."

He can hear Grillby stumble to avoid saying the name and god, he's tired of being haunted by a _name_.

" _Gaster_ ," he says, less than a whisper, a mere ghost of a word. He can feel the letters in the air. There's something thrilling about saying the name - back in the labs he had never been Gaster, he'd been The Scientist or just Him. He'd only learned Gaster's name by accident and the one time he said it out loud the _look_ Gaster gave him was enough to keep it from saying it again. He'd repeated the name to himself that night over and over, thinking no one would hear him, and Gaster had punished him for it in the morning and he'd never made the mistake of doing it again. Saying it now, though...

He's not all-powerful. He was just a monster and now he's dead and Sans can say the name as much as he wants and no one can stop him. He sits up.

"Gaster," he says again, almost normal volume, and his voice barely shakes. "Gaster," he repeats, and then he keeps repeating it, raising in volume until he's near shouting. " _Gaster Gaster Gaster GASTER_ \- "

Gentle heat on his arm snaps him out of it. "Sans?" Grillby says gently, and Sans hears the worry in his voice, realises how it must look to Grillby. He's leaning forward, away from Grillby, and quickly he goes back to his earlier pose of nestled close to the fire monster.

"Gaster didn't like it when I used his name," he says into Grillby's arm. "I kinda, uh, got carried away, I guess."

Grillby nods once, then says, "Understandable. I just wanted to make sure you weren't having some sort of flashback."

"I think you were right about talking," Sans says. "I already feel better. I never got to use his name, back then, 'cause he'd punish me if I did but he can't do that anymore." He glances up at Grillby. "I keep expecting him to suddenly show up again, but - he's gone, for good. At the same time, though, I kinda....miss him?" Sans starts laughing, suddenly, looking back down at his hand wrapped around Grillby's. 

"It's stupid, right? I shouldn’t miss him, not after all he did but - at the beginning he wasn't so bad. He taught me the alphabet and called me _Subject_ and he'd give me bits of his lunch sometimes. And then...he stopped. And part of me wondered if I'd done something wrong, ‘cause why else would he be so mean? Maybe, if I was quieter and better behaved and didn't try to talk back things would go back to normal. But instead they got worse."

He shuts his eyes. He's not going to cry, not today. He's had enough of that.

"He...carved into my arm, and it hurt and I tried to make him stop but he said he had to. That he was the only one strong enough to do it. He hurt me and he kept hurting me and I don't know why, I don't know what his grand plan was and I don't know why he had to hurt me for it to work. But - a couple times he'd talk about reaching the surface and how me and Pap were the key and - what if I ruined everything? Maybe he did have a plan and if i'd just gone along with it everyone would be happy."

"It wouldn't have been worth it," Grillby says. "Nothing is worth making children suffer- nothing is worth making _you_ suffer. You deserve to be happy as well."

"It'd be okay," Sans says. "I'd have been okay with it, as long as Papyrus got to be happy." He looks at the floor, barely thinking as he's talking. "It's not like I've done anything good. It would've been better if I'd just gone along with him. Papyrus would be happy with you. I keep screwing things up." He lets out a sigh. Getting these feelings out of his head is helping, but it still hurts to admit. "I'm not - I don't belong here. I don't know how to deal with it. I'm not even - I'm not even a real monster." He glances at Grillby, waiting for some kind of reaction. "I'm - I'm made up of pieces of a dead human and Gasters soul. I'm barely a monster. I'm just an experiment." He still expects Grillby to to pull back or push him away or _something_ , even though he never has before, and he’s still amazed when Grillby doesn’t. "I don't get it - Doesn't that freak you out? I'm a poisonous dead body and I've killed people. Shouldn't you be - I dunno, grossed out or scared or something?"

"It doesn't matter to me what you are," Grillby says. "You are a monster, and more than that, you are Sans. You're more than where you came from and what has happened to you. I'm not going to be 'grossed out' or scared by you. You're my family - more than that, you're my _son._ You could be anything - you could be a water elemental and I would still love you just as much."

A sort of hysterical giggle bursts forth from Sans - he's pretty sure if he doesn't laugh he'll start crying. He can feel his eyes get watery anyways.

"You promise?" he asks, doing his best to keep his voice from trembling.

"I promise," Grillby says. "You belong here, Sans. You're just as much of a monster as anyone else, and you deserve to be happy. And if you ever feel like you don't, I will always be here to remind you."

"What if I never feel like I deserve it?"

"Then I'll be here to talk to you about it, because you do deserve to be happy."

"What if I mess up again? What if - what if I hurt you, o-or Papyrus, or - "

"No matter happens, I'll be here," Grillby says. "Nothing you can do will make me hate or be afraid of you." Sans nods but doesn't look at Grillby, and the fire elemental knows Sans well enough to know what this means. "Is there something else on your mind?"

"I killed him," Sans says quietly. "No matter what I do in the future, I'm still gonna be a murderer. I know you're gonna say it was self defense or whatever but - it's still something I did, and I can never undo it. He - _Gaster's_ gone, because of me. And it scares me that - That I’m even capable of doing that. I think...I think I keep expecting you to be scared of me because _I'm_ scared of me."

 

"It's okay to be scared," Grillby says. "I used to be scared of my magic, of myself, when I was younger. Things will get easier with time. There's nothing wrong with being scared, Sans," he says, then waits for Sans to look at him before continuing. "Everyone gets scared sometimes."

"Even you?"

"Even me." He looks down at Sans, a fond look on his typically blank face. "Next time you're scared, come and tell me. I want to help you, but I can't do that if you don't let me know when you need help. And...Can you promise me something?"

"Probably."

"Can you promise you won't try to hurt yourself like that again?"

Sans looks away guiltily. Grillby keeps talking. "I understand why, but...it scared me, seeing you like that. I'm always here to listen, Sans. You don't need to hide how you're feeling."

"You won't get mad or anything?"

"I won't be mad."

Sans hesitates before speaking. "I don't like making promises," he says, "But I'll try." He smiles tentatively.

"That's all I can really ask you to do. Thank you for telling me all this. I know it's hard, but it means I can help you."

"I still - I dunno. I feel bad that...that part of me misses him."

"It's understandable that you'd be conflicted about it," Grillby says. "He did...create you, after all, and he was the only living creature you knew of for a time, right?" Sans nods. "Then it makes sense you would have some attachment. It's okay to miss people who have hurt you, especially if there was a time they weren't cruel."

"I still hate him. I mean, if it wasn't for him I wouldn't even exist, but...I can't forgive him for what he did, even when I miss him. Is that...Is that bad? That I hate him? The books and movies you've shown me and Pap, they always say you're supposed to forgive people and that hating them is bad." 

"It's not bad, Sans. It's a reasonable reaction to have. You don't have to forgive people who hurt you. Just don't let it control you. You shouldn't let your anger get the best of you, but that doesn't mean you have to be okay with what he did."

"Yeah," Sans says quietly, turning the the thought over in his head. "Thanks. I think you were right about it making me feel better," he adds. "'Cause now all this stuff isn't in my head anymore."

"I'm glad it helped," Grillby says. "I’m proud of you for telling me, even though it was difficult. There's one other thing - Cianna is going to stop by later today to look at your arm and make sure it doesn't get infected. It'll be a very short visit. And then after that I was thinking we could work some more on your and Papyrus' reading. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah," Sans replies, leaning his head against Grillby and yawning. "I think I might...take a nap," he mumbles.

"That's probably a good idea. You didn't get that much sleep last night. Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?"

Sans doesn't reply, just buries his face in Grillby's sleeve. Grillby laughs.

"I'll take that as a yes," he says.

Things are gonna be okay, Sans tells himself. It'll take time, but that's fine. It's not just him and Papyrus against the world. He's got a home, a _family_ , and even if the scars from his past never fade completely he won't be alone. 

He falls asleep easily, drifting off into dreams of safety and happiness and hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna post a whole thing in the notes here but it ended up too long so I posted on tumblr.
> 
> http://lakesandquarries.tumblr.com/post/140898427241/so-i-wanna-talk-about-a-specific-thing-in-dm


	23. Twenty Three

Sans wakes up several hours later to Papyrus doing his best to roll him off the bed.

"Wake up!" the younger skeleton yells, pushing all his strength into moving his older brother. Considering Papyrus is smaller than Sans, he doesn't accomplish much.

"Mph," Sans mumbles.

"Wake _up_!" Papyrus yells again, this time pulling on his brother. Sans sits up, blinking. Papyrus waits for him to get out of bed, and when that doesn't happen, he starts pushing Sans again, tiny fists pounding his brothers back.

"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna fall asleep on you," Sans threatens.

"You wouldn't."

Sans leans back, trapping Papyrus underneath him. He can feel the younger skeleton thrash around. "Saaaaaaans!" Papyrus whines. "Come on! Doctor Cianna is here, get up already!"

"Nah."

"You're squishing me!"

"You're a good pillow."

"You are a terrible blanket!"

"Yeah," Sans agrees, stretching out a bit to trap his brother further. 

Papyrus whines, trying to sit up, before finally giving up and going limp underneath his brother. Sans is half tempted to go back to sleep.

Grillby, however, chooses that moment to walk in. Sans can't see him from his position, but he hears the door open and sees the wall go orange and, more than that, he can just tell that it's Grillby. 

"Hi Dad," he says, not sitting up. "Papyrus tried to wake me up."

"So you sat on him," Grillby says, amusement plain in his voice.

"I think I might be stuck, actually," Sans says. Beneath him, Papyrus whines. 

"Do you need help?"

"Nah, this is comfy."

Or it was, at least, because that's when Papyrus pushes up with all his might, dislodging Sans and sending him rolling onto the floor.

"Noooo," Sans whines. 

"I win!" Papyrus crows.

"You have defeated me. I am nothing compared to the great Papyrus," Sans says, lying face down on the floor.

"Yes! This is true. Now come on, get up!"

"Nahhh."

_"Sans!"_

Grillby chuckles. "You really do need to get up, Sans. Cianna is waiting in the living room."

Sans lets out a loud, over-exaggerated sigh, before getting up off the floor. Papyrus trails after him as he walks into the living room, leaving Sans a messy mix of grateful and worried. Grateful, because hopefully no one will ask him about what happened last night with Papyrus there. Nervous, because what if they ask anyway or worse, what if _Papyrus_ asks?

Sans is lucky. Papyrus is too busy asking Cianna questions to ask Sans anything. Cianna explains all her different tools in between setting up, and he manages to calm down. He lets himself zone out, letting the sounds of his brother and Cianna talk become background noise.

"Sans?" Papyrus asks, startling Sans out of his daze. "What happened to your arm?"

He should have known to expect this. "It, uh....It got hurt."

"How?"

Sans looks over at Grillby desperately, and the fire elemental comes over to distract Papyrus quickly.

"There was an...accident," Grillby says. "But everything is fine now. It would probably be better if we left Sans and Cianna alone for now. Papyrus, can you come help me cook?" he asks, and Papyrus dashes off to the kitchen, leaving Sans alone with Cianna.

Cianna's just got everything set up, and now she looks over at Sans. "I'm gonna need you to take off the bandage, if that's okay," she says. "Grillby already told me what happened, so I'm just gonna be cleaning it up and giving you some better bandages, okay? And I wanted to ask a couple questions - not about that, just about your health in general. Sound good?"

Sans nods. Cianna smiles, then takes a pair of scissors and cuts the makeshift wrapping around his arm. Sans winces when he sees underneath. It looks like someone took a bite out of his arm, almost, and there's a couple spots where blue has leaked out and dried. The bone is discoloured, almost purple, and Sans looks away quickly, sure Cianna's going to say it's infected.

"Alright, that's not too bad," she says instead. "Your blood's blue, I take it?"

Sans nods. "Its also - "

"Poisonous, yeah. Grillby told me. Don't worry, I have gloves. I'll be fine." To demonstrate, she pulls on a pair and wiggles her fingers. "Alright, let's get this cleaned up. This'll probably sting a bit, so I'm sorry in advance. You ready?" Sans nods.

"A bit" turns out to be an understatement. Whatever chemicals she's using feel like acid on his bones, and he ends up clenching his teeth, hand over his mouth, trying to keep from making noise. Cianna apologizes at least twelve times over the next couple of minutes.

Finally the burning fades, and he looks down at his arm. The blue's gone, and while it's still kinda purple, at least it isn't bleeding.

"What colour bandage do you want?" Cianna asks, nodding at the wrappings she has laid out. Sans considers for a bit before reaching out for a bright blue one. It's similar to his hoodie, if his hoodie was bright and new and much lighter. 

So, not like his hoodie at all, now that he thinks about it. But it's a nice colour regardless.

Cianna wraps it around his arm tight before tying it off. "Alright, make sure you don't get it wet, okay? It's gonna be a bit itchy as it heals, but try not to mess with it. I'm hoping some of the bone will grow back, but there's also the chance it might not. I'll stop by in a few days and we'll see how it's going, sound good?"

"Yeah," Sans says.

"We're pretty much done," Cianna says. "I just had a couple things I wanted to ask you about."

"Yeah?" Sans says hesitantly. 

"Grillby explained a bit about your HP. Why it's so low, I mean. And, uh, I was trying to think of a way that I could...fix that."

"Fix that?"

"Its because of the poison, right? It's possible that I could cure it. But it'd mean I'd need to take blood samples, and samples of other stuff, so I understand if you don’t want to."

"By cure it, you mean...I'd have more than one?"

"That’s the hope. It might not work, though, and we'd have to do a lot of trial and error. It’s your choice. And you can take as long as you want, you don’t have to decide right now."

"I'll think about it."

Cianna nods. "Okay. I'm gonna stop by again - not tomorrow, the day after - so let me know if you've decided by then." She starts packing up all her things, putting them back into her bag. "I'll see you then." She smiles at Sans, who offers a weak smile back, before closing up her bag and leaving. Sans makes his way into the kitchen, to find Papyrus chopping vegetables while Grillby watches. He lingers outside the door, waiting until Grillby sees him and steps into the living room.

"Everything alright?" Grillby asks as Sans answers.

"Yeah, everything's fine." He holds up his arm, showing Grillby the blue bandage tied around his arm. "She said it doesn’t look infected, but she's gonna come by again in two days, to see if it grows back or if I'm just gonna...have a dent in my arm." He pulls his arm closer, rubbing the bandage a bit. "She also said there might be a way to....fix me, I guess?"

"Fix you?" Grillby says, frown in his voice. "You're not broken."

Sans ducks his head, blushing a bit, before looking back up at Grillby. "No, I mean my magic. The poison thing. But she'd have to take samples and do _tests_ and stuff and she's not even sure it'll even work. But, I mean, it'd be nice to have more than one HP."

"Maybe it would help to list out the pros and cons? Let me go make sure Papyrus hasn't set anything on fire and I'll be right back, and we can do that."

Sans snorts a little. "The house is fireproof, though."

"Don't underestimate your little brother," Grillby says. That sparks an actual laugh from Sans. 

"I'll be right back," Grillby promises, before ducking back into the kitchen. Sans waits on the couch, mulling the idea over. 

He’d like to have more HP, but...There’d be needles, and samples, and _tests_ involved. And it might not even work. Plus he’d only lose HP if he got into a physical fight, and he’s good at dodging. He’s gotten this far with just the one, after all.

On the other hand, though, it’d be nice to not have to worry about his health so much. It may only matter in a fight, but sparring is an important part of monster culture and even that could probably kill him. Plus, Cianna seemed nice. He doesn’t trust her, not yet at least, but he trusts Grillby and he seems to trust her. And, most importantly, she was giving him a _choice_. She wanted to try to help, but if he said no or said yes at first and changed his mind later she’d stop.

It wouldn’t be like it was back in the labs. He wouldn’t be clueless and scared and powerless. He’d know what was happening and if it got too much for him he’d have to option to say no.

By the time Grillby returns from the kitchen, Sans has made up his mind. “I’m gonna do it,” he tells Grillby, before he’s even had time to sit down.

“You made up your mind fast,” Grillby comments. “Do you want me to tell her before she visits or would you rather tell her then?”

"Tell her now. And then when she visits we can start right away."

"Sounds good to me. I'll go call her. I think Papyrus is mostly finished cooking, if you're hungry."

Sans raises an eyebrow. Grillby chuckles.

"It's perfectly edible. He's getting pretty good at cooking, you know."

"I'll be the judge of that," Sans says.


	24. Twenty Four

It takes until Cianna is holding a needle for Sans to get nervous.

He's spent the last two days excited, daydreaming about things he'll be able to do with more HP, but seeing the needle in Cianna's hand makes him realise that at the end of the day it's an experiment, and that means it's going to hurt.

She's only taking a blood sample, he reminds himself. Nothing to be afraid of. She's just gonna take a blood sample and then he'll be done. He's had blood drawn before - his arms are marked with scars from having samples taken - it’s nothing he hasn't done before. He can handle it.

Sans stares at the needle and squeezes the stuffed bear Grillby gave him and wishes he'd asked Grillby to stay with him.

A hand waving in front of his face breaks him from his thoughts. "...okay, Sans?"

He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "What?"

"Are you okay? You were spacing out. We don't need to do this, you know."

"I'm fine," Sans says. 

"It’ okay if you don’t want to do it," Cianna says.

"I do," Sans says. “I just, uh, kinda got scared.”

“Do you want me to explain what I’ll be doing?”

“That’d...be nice.”

“Okay. I’m gonna insert the needle and it’s gonna absorb a bit of your magic. It won’t hurt, and it’ll only take a few seconds.”

“It won’t hurt?” Sans repeats. 

“It might feel kinda weird, but it won’t hurt. These kinds of needles are special. They're made of magic - hard to make, so they aren't used much, but I was able to get my claws on some.”

“Oh,” Sans says. “That - might make it easier.” 

Cianna smiles at him. "Can you pull up your sleeve?" she asks, and he does. He keeps his eyes on the wall, not wanting to see the scars or her response to them. "Alright, I'm gonna insert the needle soon, okay?"

It doesn't hurt, but that doesn't stop him from sucking in a breath the moment he feels the needle. Memories spring forth, faint echoes of panic and fear and desperation and pain. He can't breathe, all he can think of is that tiny room and needles stuck in him and _it didn't have to hurt_.

The needle's pulled out. His vision is filled with Cianna's worried face. 

"Sans? Are you okay?"

He doesn't trust his voice, so he nods instead.

"We're done for now, okay? That's all I needed. You did a really good job, alright? And that's it now. I'm gonna run some - " she cuts herself off abruptly. "I'm gonna do some analyzing and I'll call Grillby when I have any updates."

Another nod.

"Do you want me to get Grillby?" Cianna asks and Sans nods frantically. Cianna dashes out of the room and Sans tries to remember how to breathe.

Grillby's barely entered the room when Sans throws himself at the fire elemental, followed by Papyrus nearly tackling his older brother, leaving Grillby with both skeletons clinging to him. Grillby kneels down, but doesn't say anything, letting Sans get his breath back and calm down. After a moment Sans peels himself from Grillby, taking a step back so he can stand back up. 

It’s quiet for a moment, before Papyrus starts whining that he’s bored and wants to go home already. Sans is glad for the distraction and quickly starts teasing his brother about his short attention span, claiming it'll stunt his growth.

The ensuing argument lasts the entire trip home.

\---

It's a week before they hear from Cianna, and even then it's just an email saying she thinks she might know how to fix it, sent at three in the morning. Sans doesn't want to go back to the doctor’s office over a _maybe_ , especially one sent at three AM, but Grillby tells him they aren't going to have to go anywhere, Cianna will come to them. 

Cianna arrives a couple hours later, carrying a bag with her, looking very excited. “I think I figured out a cure,” she says as she walks in, not even bothering with a hello. “It should neutralise the effect of the poison, keep it from affecting Sans and other people - it’s basically an antidote.”

Sans interrupts, not entirely sure what Cianna’s saying anymore. “So my magic won’t poison people anymore?”

“Yep,” Cianna says. “And, with time, your HP should increase, too.”

“When can I start?” Sans asks. Cianna blinks.

“Gotta admit, I wasn't expecting you to be so eager,” she comments, before reaching into her bag and pulling out a bottle of pills. “You’re not gonna see effects immediately,” she adds, putting the bottle down on the table next to her. “And be careful - no roughhousing or sparring or anything of the sort for at least a week. But hopefully it’ll counteract the poison and you’ll be able to have a healthier amount of HP.” She looks over at Grillby. “One every 24 hours, no more, no less. And call me _immediately_ if there's any side effects, okay?”

Sans has already tuned her out. He dashes over to where his brother is, feeling more energetic than he has in years. 

\---

Cianna said he won't see results immediately, but from the moment Sans wakes up he swears he feels better. By the time Grillby takes him to Cianna gain, three days later, his HP is up to three. A couple days after that, it's up to five, and Cianna gives him permission to do stuff like pillow fighting.

Having more HP is _fantastic_ , he soon discovers. He feels nearly invincible with it, even if it's just a fraction of what most monsters have. He and Papyrus have a snowball fight, complete with forts and using magic to cheat and all that fun stuff. The night after that they get some scone batter and create what they dub "the Ultimate Scone", which takes all of Sans and Papyrus' strength to get into the oven.

A week ago, though, that wouldn't have been enough. 

He hasn't even felt any side effects, besides periodic headaches and nausea, but if it means getting to do all these new and exciting things, he can deal.

The night after the Ultimate Scone is created, they have a pillow fight. Papyrus starts it - Sans is lying in bed, not quite napping but not really awake either, when something soft hits him in the head. He blinks himself fully awake, only to see Papyrus grinning at him, armed with a pillow.

It’s more of a pillow war than a pillow fight. Sans is out of bed in seconds, stealing Papyrus’ pillow and whacking him with it. Papyrus grabs Sans’ pillow off the bed and holds it up as a shield.

Sans stuffs his pillow down his shirt and tackles Papyrus.

“This is almost as comfy as my bed,” he says, yawning dramatically. “I might fall asleep.”

“Sans!!” Papyrus whines.

Sans does get bored of tormenting his brother eventually and releases him. A few hours later has Sans watching Papyrus play, working on eating the so-called “Ultimate Scone” that he’s pretty sure is just batter. Papyrus is telling some story involving princesses and knights and doctors that Sans isn't entirely following, but he’s glad his brother is having fun.

His head’s starting to hurt, though. He tries to ignore it, but the headache grows, until he can barely stand to be out in the living room.

He’ll be fine. It’s nothing he’s not used to. All he needs is to go lie down somewhere dark and it’ll go away.

He mumbles something about going to sleep, stands up, and the next thing he knows he’s on the floor. 

“Sans?” He hears Grillby ask, distantly. “Sans, are you okay?”

“I’m - I - “ he tries to say, but no sound comes out.

“Sans?” Grillby says again, a frantic note in his voice. Sans tries to give some response - a noise, a twitch, a _blink_ , but he can’t move. 

“ _Sans?!_ ” he hears again, and then the world goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is so short! next one should be longer.  
> 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO EVERYONE IT'S BEEN A WHILE!!
> 
> I've had a....very hectic last few months. Started school, worked on a novel, started another story over on reddit (on nosleep, specifically, same username as on here c:), got really sick for like a month, kinda adopted another cat...  
> So. I've been busy. And with all this going on, I didn't have the time or energy to work on DM.   
> But I just dropped one of my classes, leaving me with a lot more free time.   
> So. Welcome back to the Angst Riverboat.

Sans wakes up to a weight on top of him. This isn’t anything new in and of itself, but when he tries to move, he finds he can't. His entire body feels numb and heavy, and it takes him several minutes just to open his eyes.

Papyrus is curled up on top of Sans, sockets half closed, like he hasn't slept in days and might pass out any minute. Every time he starts to drift off, though, he shakes himself back awake. Sans doesn't know how long he lies there, staring at his brother, trying to gain some feeling, but he’s not even sure what form he’s in. Finally he makes an attempt at speech, and it comes out as a mess of vague growls, which at least solves one question. 

“ _Pa...pyrus?_ ” he says, painfully slowly, and Papyrus springs awake.

“ _Sans!_ ” he cries. “ _You’re awake!_ ”

“ _Wha...What happened?_ ” Sans asks.

“ _You…let me get Dad,_ ” Papyrus says, jumping off the bed and shifting to two legs. 

Sans still can’t move, and even though it can't be more than a few seconds, the time between Papyrus leaving and him re-entering with Grillby feels like hours.

Upon seeing Grillby, Sans lets out a whine, wishing he could move to hug him but barely even able to keep his eyes open. 

“Sans?” Grillby says softly. “Are you awake?”

Sans makes another noise, trying to nod or blink rapidly or _something._

“ _What’s...going on?_ ” Sans asks. Grillby glances over at Papyrus, who stands up a bit straighter.

“He wants to know what's going on,” Papyrus translates. Grillby sits on the bed, next to Sans.

“You passed out,” Grillby says. “Cianna thinks it’s some kind of reaction to the medication. She’ll be coming over any moment - she would have stayed until you woke up, but...you’ve been out for two days.”

Two days. He’s been out for _two days,_ and now he’s - stuck? Trapped?

Paralyzed. He’s completely paralyzed, and he doesn't understand what's happening, and he can barely talk, and the only one that can even understand him is Papyrus. 

_Great._

He should’ve known better than to think things would be different this time. He should’ve known everything would fall apart again.

There’s some kind of soft pressure on his skull. He’s closed his eyes, he realises, and when he opens them, it’s to Grillby looking down at him, concerned, one hand on the bed and the other on Sans’ head.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks softly.

“ _Tired,_ ” Sans mumbles, followed by a much more enthusiastic “Tired!” from Papyrus.

“Cianna will be here soon. She’ll know what to do,” Grillby says, sounding like he’s trying to reassure himself.

This is followed by a knock on the door, and Grillby nearly trips over himself in his rush to get to the door. Within seconds Cianna’s staring at him, poking at his arms and face, talking the entire time. She’s speaking too fast for Sans to understand so instead he just lets the words wash over him. He’s getting a little feeling back in his limbs, which he thinks is a good thing.

“- Sans? Did you hear any of what I just said?” Cianna asks suddenly. 

Sans blinks at her.

“Gonna guess that’s a no. Okay, best I can figure, you had a bad reaction to the medication. The poison’s a part of your magic, and ‘curing’ it just messes with…everything, basically. So as long as you don’t take it, you should be fine.”

Sans blinks a few more times.

“Your HP is probably going to go back down,” Cianna admits quietly. “And your magic will still have the poisoning effect. But at least this way, if you accidentally hurt someone, the pills can neutralize the effect.”

Another blink.

“You’re going to be okay,” Cianna says. “How do you feel? Can you try to move your arm?”

Incredibly, he can. It’s not much, just a slight twitch, but Cianna beams at him. 

“The main thing you need right now is rest. So if you wanna go back to sleep, that’s okay.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice. Sans shuts his eyes again and is asleep in minutes.

\-------

The next time he wakes up, there’s someone he doesn’t know sitting in the corner. He can’t sit up to look at them better, at least at first. Everything hurts. He feels like one of Papyrus’s toys, like he’s been thrown around for a few hours and then dumped in a bed. After a moment, though, he manages to shift and sit up.

“H-hi,” the person says, waving shyly. They’re small, the same size as him, but they’ve got yellow scales and big round glasses and a tail. They’re wearing a soft pink dress and bright purple boots, fiddling with the edge of the dress and swinging their feet, showing off the glittery material.

“Who are you?” Sans asks. He should probably be more surprised that he’s able to talk and sit up and shift, but he’s more concerned about the new person in his house.

“I’m - uh - my mom’s your doctor? My name’s Alphys. She asked me to w-watch you and tell her if you woke up, ‘c-cause your dad’s gotta do restaurant stuff a-and she has other patients and - well, and I offered.”

Sans raises an eyebrow at her - or, does the skeletal equivalent, at least - and she blushes. 

“You’re ten, right? I-I’m only a year older than you, and I thought…she t-told me a little bit about you? A-and I thought…we could be friends? Maybe?” She’s not looking at Sans anymore, shoulders hunched over and face angled towards the ground. 

“You...wanna be friends with me?” Sans asks, and she looks up.

“I don’t r-really have any friends,” Alphys admits. “And my mom mentioned once you have a bunch of a-animated movies in your house and those are kinda - I really like them.” She’s still hunched over a little, tail moving restlessly, but she seems a little less nervous now. Or maybe it’s just that Sans is less nervous.

“...What’s your favourite movie?” he asks, and she lights up.

“Oh man, that’s a loaded question,” she says, voice much quicker and smoother. “If I had to pick _one_...Tangled? It’s about Rapunzel, she’s got really long hair and a chameleon and she falls in love with a thief named Flynn Rider except - wait that’s spoilers.”

Sans laughs. It hurts, a little. “I’ve seen it. Why’s it your favourite?”

Alphys beams at him. “It’s so _pretty!_ And Rapunzel’s so cool, and even though she’s in the tower she’s still smart and does all those cool paintings and then she manages to escape and goes on that whole adventure and - “ she stops, suddenly. “I’m rambling, sorry.”

“I don’t mind,” Sans says. “You sound really excited about it.”

“I’ve watched it a lot,” Alphys admits.

“Maybe…we could watch it together sometime,” Sans says quietly. “I’ve only seen it once.” 

“Really?” Alphys asks. “You’d…wanna watch it with me?”

“You seem nice,” Sans says.

“Can - Can I give you a hug?” Alphys asks, and Sans nods, a bit confused, before Alphys launches herself at him. “Does this mean we’re friends now?”

“If you want,” Sans says.

“I’m gonna make us friendship bracelets,” Alphys states, arms still wrapped around Sans. “I’ve…never really had friends before. I’m not sure how it works”

“Me neither,” Sans tells her. “We can figure it out together.”

“Together,” Alphys repeats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw this is now an Alphys Appreciation Fic


	26. Chapter 26

Life goes on.

Alphys starts becoming a regular presence at home. She’s a good friend. She brings over a stack of picture books one day, and when Sans admits that he can’t read, she doesn’t make fun of him or get mad or anything.

The next time she visits, she’s got a new stack of books, still with pictures, but clearly different.

“My mom t-taught me to read with these,” she tells him. “They’re meant more for kids Papyrus’s age, but I tried to bring some more interesting ones?”

Reading is _fun_ , he discovers. It’s slow, and hard, but the way Alphys cheers when he figures out what a word is makes it worth it. He’s already got a basic idea of the alphabet, which helps. Even though he’d never been taught letters, the labs had been filled with words. It wasn’t too hard to connect those weird squiggles to the sounds Gaster made. They focus on restaurant-related words at first - Sans’s idea, since if he could read those, he could help Grillby more. 

Once he’s exhausted Alphys’s supply of kid books, she starts bringing those other picture books again, although she insists that they’re _manga_ , not picture books. They’re a lot harder - the words are more complicated and the letters look different, which Alphys explains is because they’re in a different font.

“Your name’s a f-font, actually,” she tells him. “Or, k-kinda? Papyrus is a font. Sans is a kind of font. You know how sometimes letters have those weird little extra lines? Those’re called serifs. Fonts that d-don’t have them are sans serif.”

Then she explains why serifs exist, which goes completely over his head - something about “calligraphy” and “printing,” which he’s never even heard of before - but he doesn’t really mind. He likes listening to Alphys explain things. Her whole face lights up, her stutter goes away, and she seems so happy. 

When she’s done explaining, Sans has a few questions.

“What do the fonts look like?”

Alphys takes out her phone, typing a few words before showing the screen to Sans. On the screen is two words - SANS, written kinda like the fonts in Alphys’s manga books. Under that, PAPYRUS, in a very different font that looks almost worn out.

“I’ve seen those before,” he says.

“You have?”

“I was at the dump, once,” he starts. He leaves out why he was at the dump. Alphys, as far as he knows, doesn’t know about where he came from. She knows he can shift - she’s seen it, after all - and she knows a little bit about what happened with Gaster, but as far as she’s aware, Sans is a normal monster. He wants to keep it that way.

“The one in waterfall?” Alphys asks, and Sans realises he’s gone quiet.

“Yeah. I found this giant poster thingy. It had a bunch of words but there were two that were really big, and I looked at them for a while, and managed to figure out what they said.”

It’d taken a long time for him to get through those two words. He’d given up on the rest of the poster afterwards. But those words had stuck with him, and it’d been Papyrus’s idea to use them as names.

“I wonder if the p-poster’s still there,” Alphys says, fidgeting with the zipper of her jacket. “Or if someone t-took it by now. The dump’s always got cool stuff.”

“It’s where I got my hoodie. And Pap’s scarf.” He tugs on his sleeves, suddenly self-conscious. Most people don’t get their clothing from the trash, after all. Grillby’s offered to get him new clothes, but...he likes his hoodie.

It’s _his_ , in a way nothing has ever been before.

“Ewww,” Alphys says, giggling. “It’s okay. I g-got my boots there. Mom thinks I bought them. Don’t tell her though.”

“Keep teaching me and I won’t,” Sans says, grinning at her.

Alphys laughs again. “Deal.”

Writing proves harder than reading. His grip on the pencil is unsteady, and his lines come out shaky and uncertain. 

And then, finally, he gets it.

Grillby goes into the bedroom to check on Sans and Alphys and finds them surrounded by paper, every sheet covered in writing. Over and over, four little letters. S-A-N-S.

Reading and writing isn’t the only thing they do. Alphys brings her movie collection, along with a whole bunch of what she calls “anime”. It’s...weird, to say the least. The first one Alphys shows him has a lot of fighting, so they give up on it pretty fast.

It’s nice, having a friend. Especially one as smart as Alphys. 

“How do you know so much?” he asks her one night, when she’s explaining how the microwave works. Even _Grillby_ didn’t know that. He doesn’t really understand what she’s talking about, but it’s still fun to listen to.

Alphys goes red. “S-some of it I learned in school? Most of it’s j-just...I read a lot. I used to borrow my mom’s t-textbooks and read them.” She looks at her feet. “I didn’t have any friends growing up. So I had t-to keep myself entertained somehow. Y’know?” A quick glance up at him, and then her gaze is back to the floor. 

“I think it’s cool you know so much,” Sans says. “And you’re good at explaining it.” 

She doesn’t stop grinning for the rest of the night.

When Alphys goes home that night, Sans tells Grillby he wants to go to school. Grillby seems a little worried, asking Sans if he’s totally sure he’s ready. But Sans is firm.

He just wants to be a normal kid. And most kids his age are in school.

“And if anything goes wrong, Alphys’ll be there, right?”

“That’s true,” Grillby admits. “Alright. We’ll go visit tomorrow.”

Waterfall Academy is a lot bigger than Sans was expecting. Alphys tags along, even though it isn’t a school day, to show Sans and Papyrus around while Grillby talks to the principal. 

“There’s a few d-different schools in the Underground,” Alphys explains, leading them through the halls. “I used t-to go to school in Hotland but it...didn’t work out. B-but I like it a lot better here.” She stops in front of a door. “This’ll probably be Papyrus’s classroom. He’s five, right? So he’ll be in kindergarten. W-we can’t go in but you can look through the window?”

The room looks like a dream come true for Papyrus. There’s toys everywhere, lots of bright colours and shiny plastic, art supplies hiding in the corner, everything Papyrus likes. Sans glances at his brother and sees him shaking with excitement, eyes huge, grinning widely. It takes both him and Alphys to drag Papyrus away.

The rest of the tour goes by fast - Alphys pointing out rooms, them peeking in, Alphys explaining more. She only shows them a small section - the elementary school, apparently. 

“W-we’re in 5th grade,” she tells Sans. “Sixth’s elementary school too, but then we h-have middle school. Which is a separate thing. And then there’s high school b-but that’s not for a while. We should probably get back, anyways,” she says, taking Sans’ hand and pulling him down the hall, Papyrus trailing behind them. 

Once they're back in the principal's office, Grillby asks, “Did you have a good tour?”

“Uh-huh,” Sans says. 

“I have good news,” Grillby continues. “You’ll be able to start school next Monday, along with Papyrus. And you’ll be in the same class as Alphys.” Grillby’s face is as blank as ever, but there’s a smile in his voice.

Sans grins.


	27. my chapter titling is a mess

Sans can’t sleep.

It’s not for lack of trying. He’s spent the last hour lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting to fall asleep. But he’s got enough nervous energy to fuel the Underground. 

Maybe school was a mistake. Maybe he’s gonna end up regretting it. Maybe the other students will hate him and he’ll have a panic attack or they’ll like him at first and then find out all his secrets and -

Sans smacks himself, gently. Thinking like that isn’t gonna help. He’ll be fine. Alphys’ll be there, so he doesn’t even need to worry about the other kids, because who cares if they like him?

And if it doesn’t work, it’ll be okay. He’ll be _fine_.

...Hopefully.

\----

Things are better in the morning.

Papyrus wakes him up, as usual, jumping on Sans’s bed and yelling at him until Sans finally sits up.

“I’m up, I’m up,” he says, rubbing his sockets. 

“Good!” Papyrus shouts, directly in Sans’s face. “Get out of bed!!”

“I’m getting out,” Sans says, “but you’re kinda trapping me.”

Papyrus leaps off Sans’s bed, landing on his own and flopping down, kicking his legs back and forth.

“Why don’t you go eat breakfast or something?” Sans suggests, finally dragging himself out of of his warm cozy bed and into the frigid air of his bedroom. 

“Fiiine,” Papyrus says. “But you better be ready soon!”

“Got it,” Sans says, throwing Papyrus a thumbs up as he digs through a pile of laundry, trying to remember where he left his hoodie.

As soon as he hears the click of Papyrus’ feet on the hardwood floor, though, Sans deflates a bit.

He loves Papyrus, and he loves how enthusiastic his brother is, but it’s _exhausting_ sometimes.

Breathe, he reminds himself. You can do this.

It’s still a couple minutes before he pulls on his hoodie and leaves his room.

\---

The rest of the morning goes by in a blur. He eats breakfast, probably, and somehow gets to the school building, and then he sits on the grass and stares at nothing until Alphys shows up.

Even then, it takes her nudging his shoulder for him to return to reality.

“Sans?” she keeps saying. “Sans. Saaaaans.”

“Huh?”

“You o-okay there?”

“I’m - Spaced out. I’m fine.”

“You’re h-here early,” she says, flopping on the grass next to him. Sans shrugs.

“Pap’s idea.”

“H-he’s already made some friends. Tried t-to get me to join their game of tag.”

“Surprised you didn’t join him,” Sans says, looking for where his brother is. “He’s pretty persuasive.”

“P-playing tag with a b-bunch of kindergarteners while i-in a dress is a bad idea,” Alphys says, fidgeting with the hem of her pink dress. “The younger the kid, the m-more ruthless they’ll be in t-tag.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Sans says. 

It’s silly, really, but he doesn’t want to tell Alphys he has no idea what tag is.

“You s-sure you’re okay?” Alphys asks, adjusting her glasses and not looking at him.

“Yeah?” Sans says, confused.

“You just seem….Spacey.”

“Didn’t sleep much,” Sans admits. “Nerves.”

“Oh,” Alphys says, before scooting closer to Sans. “School s-seems a lot scarier than it actually is. You’ll be fine. A-and if anyone’s mean to you, I’ll - I’ll fight them,” Alphys says, nodding solemnly.

Sans snorts. “Thanks.”

“I mean it,” she says, and this time she’s looking at him. “I know I’m n-not that strong but...that’s what f-friends are supposed to do.”

“....Thanks,” Sans says again.

The moment is ruined, though, when the bell rings. Startled by the loud noise, Sans grabs Alphys’ arm and nearly knocks her over. 

“It’s j-just the bell,” she says. “School’s s-starting.”

“Oh.”

“Y-you should probably let go of m-my arm.”

“....Right.”

Sans lets go. Alphys takes his hand a moment later and leads him to the classroom. The teacher, a tall woman with pink fur and very small glasses perched on the end of a long nose smiles at him, waving him over to her desk.

“You’re Sans, right?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“I’m Ms. Litno. I spoke to your dad, but it’s nice to meet you in person.”

“Yeah,” Sans says again, shuffling awkwardly.

“Would you like to introduce yourself?”

“...Sure?” Sans says hesitantly. Ms. Litno beams at him, jumping up from her desk and leading Sans to the front of the room.

“We have a new student today, class,” she says, looking down at Sans and smiling. “Go on, introduce yourself!”

He should not have said yes to this.

“Uh,” Sans says, followed by the most awkward silence he’s ever heard. “Um. My name’s Sans.” He glances at Ms. Litno, who smiles at him.

“Did you just move here?” she asks.

“...yeah,” Sans says after another awkward pause. “I, uh. Live with Grillby? And my brother Papyrus.”

“What do you like to do for fun?”

Why is she still asking questions? “I like….movies? And….space?”

“Thank you,” she says. “You can go sit down now. I’ve gotten you a desk next to Alphys.”

Sans collapses into his seat. Alphys shoots him a nervous, but encouraging smile.

He’s starting to regret this.

\---

The rest of class is much less stressful. The teacher talks to them about history, which Sans barely follows, but he’s sure he can just ask Grillby about it later. 

Recess, however, is a different story.

Him and Alphys sit down at a table and are instantly surrounded. Everyone wants to meet the new kid, it seems.

“Where’d you move from?”

“Is Grillby your dad?”

“Are you adopted?”

“Why’d you start in the middle of the year?”

“What kind of monster are you?”

Sans doesn’t respond to any. The sheer amount of people is overwhelming enough. Combine that with all of them yelling at him, and he can feel himself shutting down. He pulls his knees up onto the bench, trying to curl in on himself and block out the noise.

“Hey! Move it!” he hears. Cautiously, he pokes his head up.

There’s a girl, with blue skin and a bright red ponytail, yelling at the kids crowding around him. 

“ _You_ move,” a green skinned boy says, pointing a clawed finger at the girl, all five eyes glaring at her.

“You’re making it impossible to get anywhere!” she shouts. “I’m trying to get to my own table! So _move!_ ” She shoves the boy, hard, and then shoves him again, except now he’s shoving her back, and they’re both shouting.

Suddenly no one’s trying to ask Sans questions. They’re too busy watching the fight.

“Who - I - What??” Sans says, confused by the sheer randomness of it all. 

“That's Undyne,” Alphys says. “A-and the boy’s Madrus.”

“Why are they fighting?”

Alphys shrugs. 

And then, just as suddenly as it started, it’s over. Undyne grins menacingly at Madrus one last time before walking off. 

“....That happened,” Sans says. 

“Welcome t-to Waterfall Academy.”

Sans has never been more grateful to hear a bell ring.

As the class returns to their desks, though, the teacher informs them that it’s time for Oral Reading.

_Don’t call on me,_ Sans begs silently, as Ms. Litno passes out books.

“We were on page 108. Sans, would you like to read first?”

….he’s screwed.

“Uh,” Sans says, words catching in his throat. “Um.”

“Sans?” she asks.

“I’m- I - I need to go,” Sans blurts, and then he runs. Out of the classroom, down the hall he just walked through, outside to the bench he’d sat on earlier.

He’s an idiot. He’s a naive, stupid idiot, and now everyone’s gonna have even _more_ questions for him because he panicked over being asked to read and just ran. 

He slumps onto the bench and curls up. He can’t even go _one day_ without acting like a freak. He might as well drop out now, stay at home for the rest of his life, where at least Grillby’s used to Sans’s weirdness.

“Sans?”

He looks up.

“Are you okay?” Alphys asks, wringing her hands together worriedly. 

“I’m…” He’s not okay. He’s never going to be okay, because every time he gets even a little bit scared, he freaks out and ruins everything. 

Alphys sits down next to him. “You’re d-doing better than my first day,” she says. Sans shoots her a look. “I hid under the desk - I d-don’t remember why - and didn’t c-come out until my mom showed up.”

“...really?”

“Yep,” Alphys says. “Look, everyone d-does stupid stuff. Or weird stuff. Or freaks out randomly. I know i-it’s scary but...No one’s gonna look at you weird. A-and if they do, I’ll fight them.” She holds up a tiny fist, and Sans doesn’t doubt her.

“I think I need a minute,” he says.

“Want m-me to stay here?”

“If that’s okay?”

“Please. An e-excuse not to go to class?” She smiles at him. “Do you w-wanna...talk about it? Mom says that helps.”

“...I didn’t want to read out loud,” Sans admits. “I’d just end up sounding like...like an idiot that learned how to read a week ago.” Quieter, he adds, “because I am.”

“Y-you’re not,” Alphys says. “You figured it out pretty fast. Just ‘cause you don’t know s-stuff doesn’t make you dumb. You’re smart in the...important way? You pick up stuff f-fast. You’re _clever_ , which is w-way better than smart.”

“Okay,” Sans says, looking down as his hands so Alphys doesn't see him blushing. “Should we...head back to class?”

“Probably.”

“Thanks for…” Sans can’t figure out how to say _Thanks for putting up with me and making me feel better and being great_ in a more concise way, so he settles for waving his arms vaguely. “You know.”

“No problem. I’ve already finished the book anyways. It’s pretty boring.”

“Still. You’re...Thanks.”

“Don’t g-get all sappy,” Alphys says, but she’s smiling. “C’mon, they’re g-gonna send someone to look for us if we don’t g-get back soon.”

Sans doesn’t resist as Alphys pulls him off the bench and back to class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy so tomorrow (if you're reading this when it's posted, 11/21/2016) is my birthday!!
> 
> I'm thinking of doing a stream, but I'm not sure what to stream, so let me know what y'all would wanna see!
> 
> It's also gonna be DM's birthday in a coupe weeks, on December 8th, and I'm thinking of doing a sort of commentary. Giving behind the scenes info and such. So let me know if that's something y'all would be interested in, or if you think you have a better idea!


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